


Love Equals Tragedy Plus Time

by deadpai



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bottom Dean, First Time, M/M, Smoking, Student!Dean, Teacher-Student Relationship, Time Travel, Top Castiel, teacher!Cas, virgin!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 16:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadpai/pseuds/deadpai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak is a perpetually single, awkward mess of a high school teacher with a thing for bad boys, so it only makes sense that Dean Winchester, the very portrait of the phrase, were to travel to Pontiac Illinois to be his student.  Dean's in town with his family to hunt a ghost, but when he meets Mr. Novak, he finds a new reason to stick around.  It doesn't take long before the two give into temptation, and when they do, neither expect the life altering events that follow.<br/>Dean certainly doesn't expect to meet Castiel all over again - and ten years younger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unstoppable Forces and Immovable Objects

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for ages, and I finally find it complete enough to submit. I'm not quite sure what the hell I was thinking trying to conquer a fic with time travel, as I am the type of person who easily overlooks things, but I've gone over and over this fic so hopefully I have filled in all possible holes [no pun intended]. I omitted certain things from the tags for spoilers sake, but it's nothing that would require a warning. 
> 
> The smattering of art throughout is all done by me. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please enjoy. :D
> 
> ...and yes the title is a Portal reference that I made cheesy and lame

  


The moment Castiel sees him in the parking lot, the world slips out from under him. 

A boy in a brown leather jacket and aviator sunglasses emerges from the driver’s side of a sleek, black 60’s muscle car.  He leans forward against the car, his crossed arms on the roof, as he lights the cigarette resting on his lips.  Music pours out of the car, something with loud and fast guitar work, as he turns around to lean back on the car and take another drag from his cigarette. Tilting his head back, he puffs a cloud of smoke into the air, and it dissipates, swirling into the atmosphere.

Castiel feels quite like that cloud of smoke right now.  His eyes remain transfixed on the smoking, leather jacketed figure as a younger boy exits the car and scurries up the stairs to the school. 

The leather jacket boy turns to acknowledge the younger one, saying something to him with a small nod and a smirk.  Castiel is entirely too distracted by the way his pouty lips form around the cigarette to comprehend any of the words he spoke. 

As Castiel stands frozen solid in the school yard, pouring out old tea from his thermos into a trashcan (even though it’s been empty for at least a couple minutes now), he feels his head spin around in circles and his heart pulse in his ears and chest.  It has been a very, very long time since he’s felt anything close to this, and any time he has in the past, it’s always been at the hands of Castiel’s weakness: _Bad Boys._

This boy, this _student_ , as Castiel is ashamed to have to remind himself, seems to be the very definition of the term.  Castiel muses that he must’ve been sent here by some sort of cruel god who wishes to test his resolve.  Or, simply wishes to ruin his life.  Either way, the god is a point ahead of him because at this rate, he’ll be a couple minutes late to his class. 

The object of his despair stomps out his cigarette, wisp of smoke leaving his lips as he then strides up the stairs to the school, right past Castiel, whose gaze shamelessly follows him the entire way up.  Once he’s past, Castiel shakes himself out of the daze that he’ll blame on it being Monday morning, stuffs his empty thermos in his bag and marches up the steps. 

Just a minute after the bell rings, Castiel stumbles into his classroom, swinging his bag off his shoulder and onto the desk. 

“Good morning, class.” 

“Good morning, Mr. Novak.”  A few of the students mumble.

“Please forgive my tardiness; I was, uh, held up.” He explains haphazardly as he takes folders and whatnot out of his bag. He sets the bag down behind the desk, runs a hand through his mess of hair and pushes his silver wire-framed glasses up his nose.  

Just before he begins to announce his lesson plan for the day, he hears a pair of boots stomp in the classroom through the door to his left. 

“Is this physics?”

Castiel looks to the figure on his left and does a double take.  It’s leather-jacket-cigarette-boy.  Of course.  The cruel forces plotting against him grow more and more sinister by the second.  He straightens himself and pushes his glasses up again, his mouth sputters but no words come out.  There were entirely too many things happening right now for his brain to process. 

“You, uh,” The boy looks to the crinkled paper in his hand. “Novak?”

Castiel clears his throat.  “That’s right.” 

“Cool.  I’m new.”  He hands the paper, his class schedule, to Castiel. 

Looking down at the schedule, Castiel reads his name.  The name fits his image perfectly, like gun-toting rebel without a cause.  His eyes practically burn as they scan over the letters, then heat rushes through the rest of his body.  “Dean Winchester.” 

“The one and only.”

This guy looks like an ex-model who lost his job to a drug addiction and now lives on the streets.  Dean smirks as he sizes up the teacher standing in front of him.  The guy’s hot, for absolute certain, but he looks about one cat away from a straitjacket. 

His hair’s wild, dark brown tufts pointing every which way, probably as a result of one of many nervous habits Dean assumes he has.  He’s wearing a tweed jacket, ill-fitting khakis, an olive green button down, some brown penny loafers and a tie that’s all askew.  He has a short beard, which Dean could appreciate, but what really has Dean’s attention are the guy’s eyes, piercing through all that mess around them.  They’re a striking blue; bright and bold.  They’re serious, but sad, and Dean finds himself instantly intrigued. 

Dean feels a little bad for judging him though, as he is already much friendlier than any other teacher that has ever spoken to him.  They certainly judged him by his appearance, usually giving him a dismissive look of disgust and sending him to a desk with nary a word, but this guy seems to be giving Dean his full attention, in his nervous-looking way.  At least, Dean certainly feels like those big blue eyes are focused on him. 

“Well then, welcome to Pontiac.” Mr. Novak smiles softly at him for only a half-second before his full powder pink lips bow back downward.  “There’s an open seat for you in the back.”

“Perfect.”  Dean replies, more cheerfully than he expected to.  “Thanks, babe.” 

A few of the students snicker as Dean walks to his desk.  Mr. Novak had given him a priceless expression just then; stunned for a flash before diving into today’s lesson to avoid blushing.  Unfortunately his reaction hadn’t escaped the students’ attention. 

Dean takes his seat with a smile on his face, intently watching his new teacher rapidly scrawl equations on the dry-erase board.  He gestures widely and enthusiastically, very engaging in his off-kilter mannerisms.  For as animated as he is though, his voice is flat, and almost hauntingly deep. 

Absently, Dean muses that the guy’s probably a freak in the sack.   

And Dean likes that idea, ‘cause crazy as he looks, he’s damn fuckable. 

At his desk while his students are at lunch, Castiel grades worksheets, his own lunch forgotten.  He’s mostly recovered from Dean knocking his world on its ass, but not entirely.  At least with papers to grade he has something else to concentrate on besides Dean’s brilliant green eyes and gorgeous freckled face.   

Earlier, seeing Dean up close had been a bit much for him.  Not only because of how unbelievably beautiful he was, but just the mere fact that of all the classes in this school, he walked into this one.  As a mathematician, he found the odds of that staggering. 

Then he had to go and call Castiel ‘babe’, practically lighting his face on fire he was blushing so hard. 

After marking through worksheet number six, he hears a knock on the doorframe of his classroom. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Novak?”

Castiel does another double take upon seeing Dean standing by his desk again. 

“Yes, Dean,” He straightens out his glasses as he turns his chair to face his student.  “What can I do for you?”

“Uh, here.”  Dean hands Castiel a worksheet packet.

“This is your homework.  You did it during lunch?”  Just a quick scan of the paper shows a lot of great work.  Castiel is instantly impressed.

“Yeah.  Hope that’s okay.”  Dean walks up just a few steps closer, and Castiel peers up from the worksheet to look at him.  “I don’t got a lotta time for homework really, so I figured I’d get the easy shit out of the way.”  The teasing wink he gives Castiel sends butterflies fluttering in his chest.   

Castiel huffs, smiling softly.  “I see.  Why’s that?” He tilts his head curiously at him, unable to keep from being nosy.  Seeing Dean up so close again, he finds himself wanting to tear down that wall of mystery he has up almost as much as he wants to tear off his clothes.  

“I work after school.  Family business.  A real drag.” 

Somehow that only adds to the mystery.  Dean seems like he just walked out of a fucking novel that Castiel is dying to read from cover to cover.  He can smell the smoke and leather all the way from his desk and he wants to bury himself in all of it and breathe it forever.  He bets Dean is warm and solid, with soft skin and even softer lips.  Not being able to test his theory feels like a death warrant.  The world is a cruel and unfair place. 

“So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow…”  Dean gives him an amused look and Castiel realizes he’s been staring, lost in thought, mindlessly scratching at his head with a pencil.

Shaking out of his stupor, he finally replies.  “Right, yes.  See you tomorrow, Dean.”  He lifts up the homework packet in his hand. “Thank you.”

Dean just gives him another wink, clicks his tongue and walks out.  Castiel feels hot all over.

Completely neglecting the work on his desk, he leans back in his chair and recounts the event that just took place.  He thinks he may have misjudged Dean initially.  He definitely displays Bad Boy qualities, but contradictorily, he’s very sweet, and evidently studious, if his completed homework is any indication.  By no means does any of this make Castiel less attracted to him, however.  In fact, much to his despair, Castiel finds himself growing even more infatuated. 

Through the rest of the day, Castiel can’t get Dean off his mind.  He fumbles here and there through his lessons, forgets things and misunderstands students’ questions.  It’s frustrating and worrying.  Castiel is apparently much more affected by Dean than he thought.

A crush on someone he finds physically attractive is easy enough to get over, but it’s looking like Dean is much more than meets the eye, and Castiel’s interest is only deepening. 

That night, Castiel masturbates while in the shower, thinking of Dean.  In his fantasy, Dean is splayed out on Castiel's desk at the head of the classroom wearing nothing but that brown leather jacket.  He's spread out, panting and glistening with sweat, ready for the taking.

And Castiel takes. Fully clothed, he bends over on top of Dean, licks into his mouth for a deep, open kiss, feeling Dean’s hands grip his shoulders.  He trails his tongue down Dean’s neck, collarbone, and all across his body.  Of course, he doesn’t know exactly how Dean’s body looks or tastes, so his mind fills in the blanks.  The blurry form in his head is nothing compared to what the real thing must be like, but it would have to do.

He makes his way down further and sucks Dean’s flushed cock in and out, looking up through his eyelashes at the gasping face above him. Then, lifting Dean’s thighs, he licks his hole open, finger fucks him, and sucks him until he screams Castiel’s name.

Back in the real world, Castiel fists his cock tight until he comes with a grunt, his palm squeaking down the wet tiles of the shower.  He breathes shakily, resting his forehead on the wall. 

Afterwards, in bed, Castiel feels more lonesome and ashamed than satisfied.

"God help me." He whispers uselessly. 

Meanwhile, the Winchesters search the empty high school, Electromagnetic Frequency meters in hand.  They each tote shotguns loaded with salt-filled bullet casings and small flashlights clipped to their jackets. 

Pontiac High School has a history of ghost hauntings, and Dean’s father John believes they could be related to another case they were working in a nearby neighborhood.  That case had been a more violent one than anything that had been reported happening in the school, but they all felt it was worth investigating. 

They had taken care of the ghost that had attacked a family up the street, but it put up a hell of a fight.  Dean came away with the most injuries, as per usual when struggling to keep his little brother Sammy out of danger.  Dean doesn’t mind taking a few extra hits if it means his brother remains unscathed. 

“Dad, my EMF ain’t comin’ up with jack.”

“Neither’s mine.”

John sighs, stuffing his own EMF meter in his jacket pocket.  “Yeah, mine’s not picking up anything either.  Still though, Dean, I want you to keep investigating this school.  We gotta be thorough.”

Dean nods as the three of them gather in their decided meeting spot at the school’s foyer.  “Yeah, okay.  What about the other houses around town?”

“Those cases are too dangerous.  I’ll take care of ‘em.”

“But dad-“

“I said I’ll take care of em, Dean.  If I need any help I’ll ask for it.”

“Dad?  What about me?”  Sam pipes in, clutching his shotgun to his chest.

“You just stick to your school work.  If you happen to find out anything about the school haunting, you let your brother know.  Dean will take care of the after school investigating.”  He looks to both his sons sternly.  “Got it?”

“Yes sir.”  They say in unison before taking one last look around the empty hallway and exiting the building. 

After Dean tucks himself into his cot at their motel, he stares at the ceiling, unable to sleep.  The big fight they just were in, getting his ass kicked by that ghost who’d just maimed two people, then immediately going off to explore a haunted school, it all was par for the course in Dean’s life.  That wasn’t what was keeping him awake.

Dean had been distracted today, clumsy and almost careless.  On his mind all day were two big blue eyes, looking at him like maybe he was more than just his dad’s foot soldier.  Big blue eyes and a friendly, nervous smile; that’s the last thing he thinks about before finally drifting off to sleep.


	2. Wildly Inappropriate

On Tuesday, Castiel makes sure to arrive to school early and head straight to his class room.  Even though the initial Dean-induced shock has subsided, he still doesn’t want to risk being late again.  His students begin to trickle in just as he finishes organizing his desk with today’s lesson plan.

He stands up and leans back against the front of his desk, nodding hello at the students who acknowledge him as they pass by.  Castiel sees Dean out of the corner of his eye, and it takes much more effort than it should for him to not look his way. 

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

“Hello, De-wait a minute.” He grabs at Dean’s forearm, keeping him from going to his desk.  Dean turns around, eyebrows raised inquisitively.  “You’re hurt!” Castiel reflexively grasps Dean’s chin with his thumb and forefinger, turning his head from side to side to examine his injuries.  He has a cut on his eyebrow and a bruise on his cheek bone and forehead.   “My God, what happened to you?”

“Oh,” Dean smiles, chuckling.  “Nothing, just got into bit of a tussle at work.”

Castiel tilts his head, his brows scrunching up in confusion and concern.  Without thinking, he lightly traces Dean’s wounded face with the tips of his fingers.  “At work? You got into a fight at work?  I thought it was a family business! Are you okay?”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, Nurse Betty.  Yeah I’m fine.  Really.  It’s not as After School Special as it looks, promise.”  Dean’s smile just grows as Castiel continues to examine him.  He looks all over, but Dean’s wearing too many layers for Castiel to see if he’s injured anywhere besides his face. 

“Do you need to go to the nurse’s office?  Or, I have some bandages in my desk if you need them.”

“I appreciate the concern for my moneymaker,”  Dean steps in closer, entirely too close considering they’re in a classroom surrounded by Castiel’s students, and he peers down, eyes hooded and full lips turned up in a smirk.  “But I’m fine, sweetheart, I promise.” 

His voice is deep, too low for anyone besides Castiel to hear.  The atmosphere in the little bubble they’re sharing seems to darken and heat up.  Castiel’s heart starts pounding, and he lowers his hands, realizing he was very inappropriately cupping his student’s face, however lightly.  He swallows heavily, and Dean takes a step back, his bright smile breaking the tension.

Holding Castiel’s gaze, he saunters backwards towards his desk, smiling the whole way as he sits down.  Castiel just stands dumbfounded, silently thanking God that his class seems to be too rowdy and distracted to have noticed what just happened between them. 

However, he wishes he had a minute, or an hour, to recover. 

Instead, he just wipes the sweat from his brow and dives straight into today’s lesson, hoping the heat coursing through his body would dissipate quickly.  It doesn’t.  At least, not quickly enough.  He keeps his eyes to the board for the most part, turning around only when someone asks a question, and pointedly avoids looking at Dean. 

After class, Castiel stops Dean on his way out.

“Dean, I apologize if I crossed any boundaries with you earlier, but I was just – _worried.”_  

“Hey, you can cross any boundaries you want with me, babe.”

Castiel rolls his eyes and shakes his head, unable to suppress a smile.  “I’m serious, Dean.  Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, Mr. Novak,” Dean assures him with a teasing grin. “I’m perfectly alright.  This is nothin’, really.”

“You realize that’s even more disconcerting.” 

“I’m just saying it looks worse than it is.  And it won’t be happening again, so no worries, Teach.”

Castiel lets out a deep sigh.  “Okay then, I suppose I’ll leave you alone.  But, listen, Dean,” Unconcerned since his classroom is now empty, he finds himself stepping right back up into too-close territory, sharply focusing on Dean’s green eyes. “If someone’s hurting you, if you need to talk to someone about anything, please know that you can come to me.”

At that, Dean’s expression softens completely and suddenly his injuries seem much less severe.  He smiles genuinely, and Castiel can’t help but mimic him.  “You’re way too sweet for a teacher.  Weirdo.” 

Castiel ducks down, scratching the back of his head and laughing under his breath, not noticing at first how Dean is sliding even closer to him.  He looks up, and Dean’s head his right next to his; their cheeks nearly touching.  Dean’s feet are lined up parallel with his, and they’re almost chest to chest.  He feels a soft breath tickle his ear as Dean whispers, “Thanks.”

With that Dean seems to vanish as mysteriously as he arrived, leaving Castiel frozen in his wake.  His next class starts to enter the room completely ignored by their teacher.  He finally snaps out of it when a student approaches him with a question about the previous night’s homework.

Again, throughout the day, he thinks of Dean.  He grows more and more intriguing by the minute, with a face full of bruises and a devil may care attitude.  He can’t be more than 18 and yet he seems _so_ adult, like there are so many stories behind those multi-hued green eyes.  Too many stories for someone so young; too many scary stories. 

Castiel starts to feel hot again, thinking of Dean.  It’s a mixture of several emotions this time.  Worry for his injuries, anger at whoever injured him, and most of all, arousal, much to his dismay. 

Later, during lunch again, Dean stops by.  He knocks on the doorframe to Castiel’s classroom, and Castiel turns to look at him, arm up in the air where he’s scribbling on the top of the dry-erase board. 

Looking him up and down with an appreciative expression, Dean says, “Now that’s a nice pair of slacks.”

Dean disappears before Castiel realizes what he meant.  His hand fumbles and the marker goes flying out of it, landing on the floor.  He nabs his blazer from his desk chair and puts it on, flattening it down to make sure it covers his ass, not that anyone’s around to look at it anymore.  His face is scorching again, and he’s sure he’s beet red.

He doesn’t see Dean for the rest of the day, and inside he’s thankful for it.  This had all been a bit too much, and Dean had been getting too close, and too flirty.  Worst of all was that Castiel was enjoying every second of it.

Castiel never dated, never flirted, never really gave any of it much thought.  He figured long ago that he was absolutely doomed in that department, and resigned himself to dying alone.  The type of men he’s always been interested in were pretty much always straight, or just way too intimidating to Castiel for him to approach.  He would just end up cataloguing them for his fantasies, and moving on. 

Now, there’s this thing with Dean.  If it even is a thing, which it shouldn’t be.  He has only just met him a day ago, but there’s so much heat between them he can’t even think straight.  Thoughts of Dean plague him between classes so intensely that it gets hard to breathe.  He has no idea how to handle it; he hasn’t had a crush on someone since he was a teenager, and back then he avoided people so much that handling it wasn’t even an issue.  He just watched them from afar, which clearly was not an option in this case.

Because Dean is his student, and that is the biggest problem of all.

During lunch period, Dean decides to meet up with his brother in the library to do some research on the case.  They sit digging through photocopies of back issues of the school’s newspaper and other information, but aren’t coming up with much.

“There’s like, nothing but old flyers and shit.  What the hell?”  Dean exasperatedly sifts through a bunch of papers in a manila folder. 

“I know.  Even old copies of the school newspaper don’t have anything about any ghost.  Where did Dad hear about this place being haunted anyway?”

“I don’t know, some old hunting buddy of his or something.”

“Oh good.  Sounds really reliable.”

Dean nods with a huff, echoing his brother’s sarcastic sentiments.  After stuffing the papers back in the folder and slamming it shut, he rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration.  “Screw it.  I’ll just ask around.”

“I’ve done that already,” Sam shuts the folder he was looking through, the contents left much more organized than Dean’s.  “None of the students know anything.”

“Well, have you tried asking one of your teachers?  Sometimes they know stuff.” 

Rolling his eyes, Sam chuckled.  “Even if they do I don’t know if they’d tell me anything.  All my teachers are kinda jerks.” 

“Yeah?”  Dean already feels his mouth start to twitch and it’s an effort to keep from grinning.  “I got a teacher who isn’t so bad.”

“Who?”  Sam quirks a brow at him skeptically.

A buzz of heat swarms Dean’s chest and he bites his lip, his smile insuppressible.  He can feel himself looking off wistfully, and it’s totally embarrassing.  The rush of fondness he feels upon thinking of his teacher is pretty unexpected and a bit worrisome.  He knows Mr. Novak is damn attractive, but his feelings right now are approaching crush-territory and that is _so_ not the Dean Winchester way.  Sam’s increasing look of amused skepticism isn’t helping matters either.

“His name’s Mr. Novak.  Teaches physics.  Seems like a bit of a fruit loop, but he’s actually a really nice guy.” 

“Okay,” Sam drags out the word teasingly, laughing at his brother’s bizarre reaction.  Before his brother tells him to shut up, he continues, laughter not subsiding.  “Why don’t you ask _him_ about the ghost then?”

 “What the fuck are you laughin’ at?”

“And if the story’s really scary you can ask him to hold you.”

 “Shut up!”  Dean shoves at his brother’s head, messing up his mop of hair, but Sam just keeps on laughing.  He gathers his stuff and stands up to leave, making sure to get in the final word.  “Maybe I _will_ fuckin’ ask him then! And you know what?  If he wants to hold me, there’s nothin’ wrong with that.” 

Hearing his brother still cracking up behind him, he leaves the library, hoping his confident stride detracts from his bright red face.  He decides to leave talking to Mr. Novak for tomorrow.


	3. Suggestive Suggestion

On Wednesday morning, Castiel is teaching away, his head not spinning nearly as much as it had been the past couple of days.  When Dean walks in, neither one of them stops to speak to one another, instead opting to exchange a friendly nod and leave it at that.  He looks as gorgeous as ever, still clad in that worn leather jacket and tight jeans, but Castiel manages to maintain composure by keeping his glances Dean’s way to a minimum. 

However, after class is a different story.  Castiel sits at his desk as his students hand him their homework before walking out.  Dean is the last to approach, to Castiel’s surprise, as he’s still ahead of the class on homework assignments.

Giving his student a small smile, Castiel tilts his head.  “You’re not finished with tonight’s homework already are you?”

“No, no,” Dean chuckles, making Castiel smile wider.  “Plan on doing that during history.”  He jokes, and Castiel just shakes his head, still smiling.  “No, I uh, wanted to see if I could talk to you about something later.”

Castiel’s smile falls and worry replaces it.  Dean notices and quickly protests with a wave of his hands.  “It’s nothing like that,” he assures, “Nothing bad.  I just, um, well, can I come by to talk during lunch?”

He looks so hopeful and almost nervous that Castiel is a little taken aback.  Here he’s been thinking that Dean has it all over him and knew it, but now it almost seems like the tables have turned a bit. 

“Yes, Dean.  Of course you can come by.”

 “Awesome.  I’ll see you then.”  With that, he’s gone, practically hopping out of the class room.  Castiel watches after him, a stupidly happy grin on his face and his chin resting atop his hands.  He finds himself feeling uncharacteristically cheerful through his following classes. 

Later, at around noon, it’s just about time for Dean to come by.  Castiel is feeling entirely too excited about it; fidgeting about at his desk, moving pencil holders and paperweights around just to keep his hands busy. 

When Dean enters the room, Castiel’s heart thuds; one harsh pulse from in his chest to out his ears.  He swallows heavily and squares his shoulders, turning to give Dean a smile that feels a lot twitchier than he wants it to be. 

“There you are.”

“Yeah, hey.”  Dean draws nearer, slowly approaching, the temperature of the room rising with each step.  He goes behind Castiel’s desk and leans back, perching on the ledge with his hands at his side.  He’s so close to Castiel that his smoky, leathery smell is almost overwhelming.  “Sorry I kept you waiting.”      

Castiel just shakes his head and clears his throat, trying to get his brain to function around that intoxicating scent of Dean.  “Not at all.  What did you want to talk to me about?”

“This might sound a little weird, but I was wondering if you knew anything about this school being haunted.  You ever hear of anything like that?”

A slight jump of shock on his face, Castiel leans back in his chair, placing his hands on his lap and interlacing his fingers.  “Oh, yes.  It’s been a long time since anyone’s mentioned it, but yes.”

“So this place _is_ haunted?”  Dean crosses his arms, his face stern and at full attention.

Castiel on the other hand, looks away reflectively.  It’s been a very long time since he’s thought about this.  “Well, there’s never been any definitive proof, but I would say it is.  I know back when I went to school here there were…some strange incidents.”

At that, Dean scoots closer, leaning on one hand and dipping into Castiel’s space.  “Like what?”  He practically whispers it, causing Castiel’s head to jerk out of his daze and look up at him.

“Oh, just, um,” Castiel shrugs and his eyes dart around, feeling too hot under Dean’s intense gaze.  He opts to look forward out into the empty desks to gather his memories.  “Well, I recall a few times where literally the entire school would shake, and this loud boom would follow it.  Then, everything was just…dead quiet.  Everyone stunned to silence.  It was the oddest thing.  And it happened more than once, to no explanation.”     

“Really?”  Dean’s expression could be seen from the corner of Castiel’s eye, and to his surprise, he seems much more thoughtful than alarmed.  “Anything else?”

Castiel lets out a deep sigh.  This next thing, he’s never told anyone.  It truly disturbed him and he feels like telling anyone would make it too real.  For some reason though, telling Dean seems right. 

“What is it?”  Dean squints at him, concern written on his face.  Castiel finally turns back to him, and keeps his voice low. 

“I remember a couple of times being alone in the gym locker room when the air around me started to feel extremely cold.  Arctic.”  Castiel’s voice is reduced to a whisper as he continues.  “I could see my breath, it was so cold.  And I couldn’t move.  I just stood there, shaking, freezing, and I swear it felt like someone was holding me…but there was no one there.  But I felt something.  It was terrifying.”

Castiel can recall it clearly now, standing next to his gym locker, clutching onto his book bag.  Feeling pressure wrapping around him like arms, but seeing no one.  The lights going dim.  Being frozen solid, so cold. 

He feels a warm hand on his shoulder.  “You okay, Mr. Novak?” 

“Wha-oh, uh, yes, I’m fine.”  He stutters as he shakes his head again, releasing himself from his reverie.  “Sorry, I just…I haven’t thought about that in so long.  I’ve never told anyone about it before.” 

The hand on his shoulder squeezes and lets go.  Castiel misses it instantly.  “Well, your secret’s safe with me, babe.”

The fondness in Dean’s voice and touch doesn’t quite break all the tension, but it serves as a welcome comfort, lightening the mood a tad.

“This happened to you more than once?”

“Yeah, yes.  Twice.”

Dean crosses his arms again and looks straight ahead, pursing his lips with a nod.  Castiel observes him curiously, wondering how a story like that could leave a person so composed.  Another reason why he didn’t tell anyone that story is because he figured no one would believe it, but it looks like Dean trusts every word. 

The enigma that is Dean Winchester just seems to keep increasing. 

“Why are you asking about all this, Dean?  Do you have an interest in the paranormal?”

Dean just chuckles and flashes Castiel a playful grin.  “A passing interest.  Just, heard a rumor from a guy who heard it from another guy and…thought you might have some answers.”

“Oh.  I see.  Well, I hope I was helpful.”

“You were very helpful.  Thank you Mr. Novak.”

“Anytime.” 

Suddenly they were back to flirty smiles and teasing tones again.  Dean opens his mouth to say something, but the bell to end lunch rings, interrupting him.  Castiel curses it silently as he watches Dean stand up to leave. 

Before he could exit, Castiel finds himself stopping him.  “Wait, Dean,” Dean looks over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Um, my name is Castiel.”  And he’s not sure why he says it, Dean didn’t ask, and he’s his student so it’s not necessary he knows his first name, but he says it.  The smile he’s rewarded with takes away any regret instantly. 

Then, Dean leaves, and Castiel is left grinning from ear to ear. 

A little over an hour after school has let out, Castiel heads to his car.  On the way to the parking lot, he sees Dean, sitting on the hood of his shining black beast of a car, his legs crossed at the ankles.  Castiel’s heart does another loud thud in his chest.

“Hey,” Dean says with a nod, his cigarette bobbing between his lips. 

“Dean, what are you still doing here?” 

After puffing out one last cloud of smoke, Dean tosses his cigarette down and puts it out with a heavy stomp.  He puts his hands in his jacket pockets and walks right up to Castiel, stopping to stand only about a foot away.  Castiel does a quick look around the mostly empty lot, thankful to see that no one’s nearby. 

“My brother Sam wanted to stay after for some group project he’s workin’ on, so I’m waiting for him.”

“Oh, yes, your brother,” Castiel lets it slip out before he realizes he only knows Dean has a sibling from when he stared at him Monday morning in this very parking lot.  “What uh-what grade is he in?”

Dean doesn’t seem to pick up on the slip-up, fortunately.  “Freshman.”

“Ah.  Well, it’s certainly nice of you to stay.”

“Yeah, I can be nice if I work really hard at it.”

“You’re very nice, Dean.”  He feels himself say instantly and no amount of backtracking or throat clearing can undo it. 

Dean just gets up even closer, subtracting their distance apart by a significant amount.  Castiel looks down at the space between them, then looks back up, realizing that at this proximity he could easily reach his arms out and pull Dean in.  He thinks, mathematically, it feels incorrect _not_ to touch him.

But he keeps still.

“Why thank you, Cas.”

His heart thuds again at the sound of his nickname; one he hasn’t heard in years because he doesn’t talk to anyone anymore.  It sounds so perfect falling off of Dean’s lips.  He wants to hear him scream it. 

Suddenly, he’s overpowered with the _need_ for it.  He wants to feel Dean all around him, inside of him, above him and beneath him he wants Dean.  _Needs_ Dean.  And he has no idea how or why it’s become like this.  He just knows that every word, every look exchanged between the two of them has this undertone of _sex_ and he’s overwhelmed by it.  He has never once, ever felt like he needed to have sex with someone, to be with someone, until now.

And somehow, Dean reads his thoughts.

“We should fool around sometime.”

“What?!”  Castiel balks, and he’s not sure what he’s stunned about the most, but he knows what he should be.  “Dean-“ he swallows, “I’m your teacher.”

Dean just shrugs, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to dismiss.  “Yeah, I’m aware of that.  Not like I’d tell anyone.”

Castiel just blinks at him, stunned.  The fact that Dean actually _does_ want him back in any capacity has his brain whirring.  It’s sorting through all the information as it tries to calculate the odds of this perfect human specimen actually desiring to spend time with him, to perhaps even be intimate with him.  How does figure A result in answer B?  Castiel can’t figure it out for the life of him. 

Before any conclusion has been reached, Castiel feels a hand around his wrist and a piece of paper in his palm.  He looks down at it, confused now as it to how it got there.

“My number.”  Dean says, curling Castiel’s fingers around the paper with his other hand.  He keeps both hands wrapped around Castiel’s and Castiel just stares down at them, the heat from them somehow sending chills up his arm.  That doesn’t make sense to Castiel either.  “Call me some time if you wanna hook up.”

Castiel sees the hand atop his leave, then feels fingers brush across his forehead, moving the few thick strands of hair there out of the way.  With that, he looks up, meeting Dean’s eyes.  They’re earthy and brilliant, a dot of golden brown surrounded by green.  He just stares, unable to speak, or think beyond admiring those eyes.

He feels his wrist cool off when Dean’s hand releases it, and he lets his arm swing down to his side.  Even though it’s the exact opposite of what he should do, he finds himself whispering, “Okay.”

Dean smiles then, and it’s so sweet that Castiel just can’t feel dirty about what he just agreed to.  They break apart, Dean going back to his car, and Castiel somehow managing to walk to his own. 

Clutching the paper in his hand, he bites his lip and smiles, ducking his head as he reaches his car.  His heart pounds all the way home.

In bed that night, Castiel runs Dean’s cell number in his head over and over, wrestling with the idea of calling him.  He knows he won’t actually do it, that he shouldn’t do it, but that doesn’t stop him from fantasizing about it.  He thinks about calling Dean up and scheduling a place to meet.  Perhaps Dean would drive them around in that sexy car of his until they found some secluded spot where they’d take turns sucking each other off and that’d be that.

Of course, Castiel wants much more than that; he wants it all.  He wants everything with Dean, but he knows he can’t have it.  Still though, he imagines it.  He thinks of fucking Dean and Dean fucking him, of them grabbing and clawing at each other, of them kissing and kissing until they can’t breathe. 

The images flash through his head like film strips as he pulls on his cock, fast and rough until he comes, gasping Dean’s name.  His body goes completely limp and he lies in bed, looking like the corpse of a man who’s leapt off a building.  He stares at the ceiling in the dark until his eye lids get heavy and he falls asleep. 

At around midnight, Dean scours the dark, empty hallways of the school.  He searches the gym, the gym locker room, the cafeteria, the library and every hall.  He knows he should scope out all the classrooms, but he’s too tired, and the EMF still isn’t finding anything.

When he got to the motel from school that day he called his father and told him that one of his teachers was sure the place was haunted, but he didn’t really know any details.  John, Dean, and even Sam then tried to find out everything they could about the school’s history, going to the local public library to sift through the town’s records, but came up with nothing.  They were suspicious that information was being hidden, so John insisted that Dean continue his investigation.

Not knowing whether or not someone has died at the school was going to make that a bit difficult, however.  Still, Dean does as he’s told, as always. 

After a few hours of exploring, he plants himself on the floor, leaning against a row of lockers.  He goes over what Mr. Novak, _Cas_ , told him earlier.  He doesn’t think his teacher lied to him, he was too shaken up, too serious to have been lying.  Plus, Cas just doesn’t seem like the type. 

At least, Dean doesn’t want him to be. 

And that frightened look Cas had on his face when he was telling Dean his story makes him want to find this ghost and fuck him up. 

“Hey!” Dean calls out, his voice echoing in the deserted halls.  “You listenin’, bitch?  I’m gonna fuck you up!”

When nothing happens, Dean stands up, chuckling.  Of course that didn’t work, but he had to try it.  Besides, annoying a spirit into showing itself has always been one of his favorite methods. 

He does want to kick its ass though. 

Cas is such a sweetheart, and he hates the idea of anyone hurting him.  And with Cas’ nervous mannerisms, it seems like he’s definitely been hurt in the past.  Dean would love to know how, who, why, when, so he can go back and remedy that shit.

As Dean kicks the door to the school open defiantly, Cas’ scared, shaky voice echoes in his head.  He never wants to hear that again, and he’s almost alarmed by how protective he’s feeling over this man he’s just met.  Dean’s always been that way though; protective over the people he likes, which are few in number.

And he likes Cas, a lot.  He’s kind, funny, quirky and curious.  He’s smokin’ hot besides, with that bed head and those eyes, so striking even behind those crooked glasses, but Dean’s well aware he’s digging on Cas for more than just his looks. 

He really, really hopes Cas calls him sometime.  


	4. Life’s Little Fundamental Shifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why hello there longer, smutty chapter! Also some plot happening but w/e

Castiel finally caves in and sends Dean a text on Friday night.  Not before debating the idea in his head for well over 24 hours though.  He tried weighing the pros and cons, but deep down he knew no amount of logic could make him pass up such an opportunity.

All day on Thursday he was nervous around Dean, even more so than usual.  When Dean walked in class that morning, Castiel stood up from his desk for no reason at all, promptly stubbing his toe on the corner of it.  He blushed, immediately sat back down, and made sure to avoid seeing Dean’s reaction, if he had one.  Which, he was quite sure he did.

Even more frustrating was that Dean acted no differently around him at all.  Castiel had truly been kidding himself when he thought maybe Dean was a little shy just like him.  No, Dean just carried on as usual; giving Castiel his usual winks and smirks. 

Thursday night he barely slept, tossing and turning with Dean’s warm, sweet voice in his mind.  ‘ _Call me some time if you wanna hook up’_ was on repeat, taunting him. 

Castiel wondered how anyone else would react to such a situation.  He had no frame of reference, no one to talk to, no idea what a normal person would do.  The thought of searching the internet for answers to his conundrum came to mind, but that was a bit too ridiculous, even for a loner like him.

All through Friday he was an absolute mess.  Scattered and fumbling about on very little sleep, he knew his students could tell he was off.  Dean just kept on being his friendly self though, and Castiel wondered if he knew how much he had gotten to him.  

Now, he’s at home and on the verge of exploding.  He’s pacing around his house, mumbling to himself about how he should “stop being so cowardly and just do it”.

“Just do it Castiel, you never do anything, you finally have the chance so just do it!”

“Dean actually wants you so just go get him!”  He actually yells at himself so loudly it startles him.  The cat sleeping outside on his windowsill meows and scurries off, making Castiel jump again.  He groans, takes his glasses off and rubs his forehead in exasperation.  “I’m losing my mind.”

Castiel then reasons that it would be best for his sanity to have sex with Dean.   

Having made his decision, he picks his cell phone up and dials the number, which he had memorized in his obsession somewhere during the past couple days.  It takes a few tries to get it right as his hands were shaking, but eventually he types out a text message to send to Dean.  He reads it over and over for a good half hour, until he forces himself to press ‘send’. 

 

“Meet me at Chautauqua Park at midnight.”

Dean smirks as he reads the text message one more time while on the way to said meeting spot.  He shakes his head as he stuffs his phone back in his jacket pocket.  He wasn’t exactly sure what to expect from his teacher, whether he would actually call or not, but a minimally detailed text actually made sense.  It makes Dean laugh to himself; the thought of twitchy, anxious Cas sending a naughty rendezvous text was pretty damn amusing.

Not to make it sound like Dean isn’t excited about it.  He very much is.  When he received the message at about 7 PM, he about jumped out of the couch.  He broke out into a huge grin and was so very, very happy that no one was around at the moment to see it.

He left the motel his family was staying in at around 10 to scope out the school one more time before heading to the meeting spot Cas chose.  Again, at the school he found nothing; no evidence of any haunting.  Normally this would be incredibly frustrating, but he was too abuzz over his date with Cas to really be bothered.

Now, as he drives to the park, he wonders what made Cas finally decide to call him.  He hopes he didn’t feel pressured into doing it, or obligated.  Dean tried very hard not to act any more inappropriate with him than usual since he made the suggestion, so he’s fairly certain that’s not the case. 

It’s pretty clear that Cas is attracted to Dean, he knows that for sure, but he can’t say he expected Cas to actually go through with this, even though he agreed to it initially.  Dean had to make the proposition though.  He tries to have at least at little fun during these hunting jobs with his family, and fooling around with Cas seems like a _lot_ of fun.

He lights a cigarette as he pulls into the park, searching for another car in the lot.  It’s a big place, so he ends up looking around for several minutes before spotting a car parked on the grass in a thicket of trees.  Dean drives the Impala out of the parking lot and on to the grass, parking about ten feet away next to the other car.  With their headlights off, they are fairly well hidden in here.

After taking a deep inhale of his cigarette, he steps out of the car, puffing the smoke out into the cool night air.  The wisps of smoke swirl around, glowing faintly under the moonlight.  He shuts the car door, then waits for the person in the other car to immerge. 

He keeps one hand in his jacket pocket, and another on the handle of the gun he has tucked in the back of his jeans.

 

Castiel takes several deep breaths while clutching on to his steering wheel upon hearing the rumble of Dean’s car approach behind him.  He opens his previously squeezed shut eyes to see the headlights of the car in his rearview mirror.  He clears his throat, takes a few more deep breaths, mumbles some encouraging words to himself, then moves to exit the vehicle. 

He had been shaking since he left the house to head to the park and continued to do so during the entire drive there.  He left at around 11 to give himself enough time to find the perfect well-hidden spot for them, and also because he couldn’t sit still at his house for more than five minutes. 

His poor heart had been pounding away ferociously since he sent that text message.  He received no response from Dean, so he wasn’t even sure he would be there, and that was just another worry to add to the ever growing list of things he was terrified about regarding this little meeting of theirs. 

There is no going back now though, as he here is, and here Dean is, and here they both are.  Actually doing this.  Every ounce of Castiel’s good sense screams at him to peel out of there, drive home, and never speak to Dean again unless absolutely necessary, but he can’t do it.  There is also that part of him that is so, so happy to finally have the chance to _be_ with someone, and he can’t ignore it.  That part of him screams much louder.

After getting out of his car, he straightens himself out, pushes up his glasses and flattens down his tweed jacket.  He doesn’t look up at Dean until he’s all the way around the other side of his car, standing right in front of him.  Nervously, his gaze slowly travels up Dean’s body, from his boots all the way to the tips of his spiky hair. 

The shadowy, mysterious figure of Dean lit only by the faint moonlight and the orange glow of the cigarette on his lips makes Castiel’s cock twitch so suddenly he stumbles on his feet. 

Dean lets another cloud of smoke dance out of his lips as he lowers the cigarette from his face, and begins to approach Castiel.  The grass crunches under his heavy boots with each step, and Castiel’s heart pounds away feverishly.  The heat he feels around Dean rushes him from the outside in, circling around in his chest and flowing downward to settle heavily in his dick. 

They haven’t even spoken to each other yet and Castiel is already hornier than he’s ever been in his entire life.

He tries to calm his nerves, tries not to shake as Dean draws nearer.  He looks straight at him, swallows hard and stands perfectly still, his fists clenched at his sides. 

Dean stops at about two feet away, and is of course the first to speak.  “Hey, babe.  Hope I’m not late.”

“No, no, you’re right on time.” 

“Good.”  Dean speaks lowly as he takes another drag from his cigarette. 

“So,” Castiel clears his throat and attempts to smile, but he’s not sure how his facial twitches are actually forming.  “What did you have in mind tonight?”

Humming thoughtfully, Dean steps up closer.  He gets right into Castiel’s space again, it’s all too familiar and yet tonight it’s much more intense.  He blows out another puff of smoke, directing it away from their faces, then he lowers the cigarette and rests both hands at his sides.  He slowly lets his gaze return to Castiel, a lascivious smirk spreading across his face.

“You.  Me.  The backseat of my car, and little to no clothing.  How’s that sound to you?”

“That sounds…agreeable.” 

A quiet huff of laughter escapes Dean’s lips as he drops his cigarette and stomps it out, grinding it into the grass.  He gets even closer, pressing his body up against Castiel, and it takes all of Castiel’s might not to shiver.  Gently, Dean straightens out Castiel’s wire-framed glasses as he leans in, his lips so close that Castiel can taste the smoke on them.

The hand on Castiel’s glasses moves to stroke his chin, then cup his cheek.  “You shaved for me.  Looks good.”

Castiel laughs nervously and smiles, resting into the touch automatically.  Dean’s hand is so warm and sure, his eyes fall closed and he sighs.  His heart hasn’t stopped pounding, the heat within him is only rising, and he knows his legs are quaking, but Dean’s gentle touch is so reassuring that he feels he just might be able to get through this without exploding. 

Then, he feels a pair of lips on his. 

Castiel sucks in a gasp of air through his nose, and his eyes spring open, but Dean just presses his lips in a little bit more.  It’s soft and sweet, but it lasts long enough for Castiel to close his eyes again and press into it, tipping his head up and pursing his own lips to kiss Dean back. 

His head spins and spins and the only part of his body that feels steady are his lips.  Just when he thinks he’s truly about to sprout wings and fly away, Dean pulls off.

Castiel’s mind floats back down to earth and reality starts to set back in.  He opens his eyes and looks into Dean’s; they’re dark and hooded and he looks predatory.  Suddenly, Castiel is aware of how hard they’re both breathing.

It seems wrong that they’ve stopped kissing.  It’s downright incorrect to _not_ be kissing Dean.  He’s right there and they both want to so badly that doing anything else right now is just wrong.  Mathematically, scientifically, fundamentally _wrong._   Castiel decides this must be remedied immediately.

Without another second to calculate, Castiel grabs Dean by the collar of his leather jacket and yanks him forward, crushing their mouths together.  They growl into it, opening their mouths, tilting their heads, and pressing their tongues together.  It’s sloppy, hungry, and desperate, and Castiel can’t even fucking think anymore, he can only kiss. 

 

Dean’s hand is holding the back of Castiel’s head, his fingers tugging at his mess of hair.  Castiel loves it, he loves that it almost hurts how hard they’re kissing each other, how it feels like Dean is just as desperate as he is, whether it’s true or not. 

He feels a hand slide down to his ass and squeeze, making him jump.  Dean laughs into their kiss, and pushes Castiel in even closer.  Castiel’s hands are frozen where they are, just white-knuckle gripping and pulling at Dean’s jacket collar. 

Dean sucks in Castiel’s broad upper lip, letting his teeth scrape across it for a nibble.  Castiel wants to do the same, he wants to try it because he’s never done it before, so he blindly sucks in Dean’s lips and bites, and Dean bites back.  He feels a warm soothing tongue sweep across his lips and he repeats the motion, then dives back into Dean’s mouth, licking away and tasting everything. 

The smoke, the whiskey that Dean is too young to be drinking, all the tastes that makes Dean so fascinating are all there, and Castiel can’t get enough.  To him, Dean’s flavor is much more intoxicating than any of those substances could ever be. 

The wet, sucking smacks of their lips are some of the most beautiful sounds Castiel’s ever heard and he never wants it to end.  It’s unfortunate then, however necessary, that Dean pulls away.  They’re both gasping for air, the sounds of their harsh breathing filling the forest around them, drowning out any of the sounds nature attempts to provide.

Dean looks him up and down appreciatively, and he chuckles between breaths.  Castiel would even venture so far as to say he looks excited, and that makes him smile. 

“Damn, Cas,” Dean’s hand slides around to pull at Castiel’s jacket.  “Let’s go.”

Before Castiel can even form a response, he’s being yanked toward Dean’s car and shoved in the back seat.  He doesn’t get the chance to get his bearings before Dean is practically pouncing on him, licking into his mouth and wrapping his arms around him. 

They kiss in that awkward position for only a few moments before Dean pulls away to pepper soft kiss after soft kiss as they both try to rearrange their bodies.  Castiel turns to sit sideways in the seat, then scoots closer to Dean, wrapping his legs around his waist.  Dean seems to think that’s the right idea, as Castiel can feel him smile against his mouth and pull him in until he’s on his lap. 

Then, Castiel feels his glasses get pulled off his face and he hears them clink as they fall on the front seat.  He looks away in surprise to see what just happened, but Dean just grabs his face and forces him right back into the kiss.  Castiel doesn’t protest.

He’s pressed so close to Dean, they’re wrapped around each other and it’s so wonderful and warm, but they both clearly agree they’re wearing far too much clothing.  Dean starts to tug at Castiel’s jacket, so Castiel wriggles around to help remove it.  Dean hums as Castiel moves about on his lap, and Castiel is unsure why exactly until he feels the body beneath him push upward and push Castiel downward at the same time.  The friction is indeed enjoyable.

With a moan, Castiel joins in the grinding, feeling Dean’s hardness rub against him.  Once he’s finally free of his jacket, he hurriedly shoves Dean’s off.  It’s a struggle while they’re doing so many things at once, but he manages it.  When he does, and when his hands are on Dean’s back, pawing at him, Dean gives an appreciative upward thrust that makes them both cry out.

Every movement and noise Dean makes sends vibrations of heat all through Castiel’s body.  His chest buzzes with the excitement and joy of being wanted like this, of being wanted by Dean, he finds himself nearly whimpering a few times because of it.  His arousal intensifies by the second and it feels so glorious rubbing up against Dean, but he knows he needs more.

He rakes his hands down until he reaches something cold and solid around Dean’s lower back.  He clumsily grips and tugs at it to get it out of the way, but a hand comes around to stop him.

Dean parts their kiss with a laugh, receiving a confused look from Castiel.  “Oh, right.  Lemme get that.”

Upon seeing the item in Dean’s hand, Castiel gasps and jumps back a bit, clutching onto Dean’s shoulders.  “You have a gun?!  Wh-why do you have a gun?!”

After twirling the silver pistol in his hand, Dean lowers it down to the floor board next to him.  “I get an anonymous text telling me to be somewhere at midnight, you can bet that sweet ass of yours I ain’t goin’ unarmed.  Wasn’t 100% sure it was you meetin’ me here, baby,”  Dean takes Castiel’s chin in his hand to bring his attention away from the gun and back to him, then nuzzles him, brushing their lips together lightly.  “But now that I know it’s you, I don’t need it.”

“Oh,” Castiel sighs, then gulps.  He’s not sure if he’s relieved, or even more turned on.  Dean isn’t just the symbol of a Bad Boy, he’s the real thing.  In fact, that probably isn’t even the correct phrase to describe him at all.  It seems too juvenile.  If he could think beyond the aching in his pants and the tingling heat around his heart, he might be able to come up with a proper label.  Maybe.  “I’m-I’m sorry, Dean.  I forgot I didn’t give you my number.”

He feels himself shaking again, and he’s unsure what’s causing it.  Probably everything.

Dean soothingly strokes Castiel’s cheek, then his arm, then down to squeeze his thigh.  “Don’t worry about it.”  He whispers deeply into Castiel’s mouth.  “I got it now.  And I’m sure glad it was yours. ”

He smiles sweetly with a wink, and Castiel can’t take it anymore so he crushes their mouths back together.  Their lips and tongues move so fluidly with each other that Castiel can’t believe he’s actually doing okay at this. 

They start to yank off their clothing now, whose arms doing what is unintelligible in the chaos as items are tossed to the side.  Castiel kicks off his shoes, and he lifts himself a tad so Dean can remove his, parting their kiss, but not far enough that Dean can’t bite at his lower lip. 

Now they’re both in only their jeans and Dean’s bare chest looks and feels so much better than what Castiel’s fantasies have ever provided.  Castiel looks him over, letting his palms slide up and down his chest and across his abdomen.  He’s so beautiful, his freckled skin so warm and smooth.  There’s a tattoo over his heart and a few scars here and there and Castiel thinks he might die from how tailor made perfect he is for him. 

As much as he would like to marvel at the work of art Dean is forever, he doesn’t think he can keep his lips off him any longer.  He dives in, kissing across his shoulders, neck, collar bone and chest.  He licks up to Dean’s tattoo and sucks in a nibble, then does the same to one of his nipples, hearing a groan and feeling a hand grab at his hair and pull. 

Before he knows it, he’s being pushed onto his back with Dean looking down at him hungrily.  Then he sees Dean rush forward at him, repeating Castiel’s ministrations but more harshly, with sucking and biting kisses all across his chest.  It feels insane and Castiel loves it so much he could scream.

In fact, he realizes that he pretty much is screaming.

“Dean! Dean!”  He shouts as Dean’s mouth and hands travel everywhere.  He grabs at Dean too as best he can considering the way he’s trembling. 

His fingers slide down the dip of Dean’s spine and Dean curls into it, moaning and pressing their groins together hard.  Castiel feels the pressure like a bolt of lightning and he shakes from it so hard he whines.  The noise catches Dean’s attention and their mouths are soon slotted back together, both gasping into the kiss as they scramble to remove their pants.

Hurriedly, they help each other pull down their pants and kick them off to the side.  Rejoining their lips, Dean rolls atop of Castiel sensuously, rubbing their thinly covered cocks together. 

It makes Castiel’s skin prickle all over, the feeling of Dean’s erection against his.  Touching himself feels good, but it is nothing compared to this.  Even with the two of them still in their underwear, it’s beyond better than anything he’s ever done to himself. 

Dean begins to kiss across Castiel’s cheek then down to his neck, sucking in a long kiss before pulling away to speak.  “What do you wanna do, Cas?  Tell me what you like.”

Lowering his hand, he squeezes Castiel’s hard on in his boxers, making him grunt and thrust upward.  Since he’s rendered unable to answer, Dean squeezes again and strokes him.

“What do you like, baby?”

“Oh,” Castiel breaths, his eyes screwed shut as he pushes into Dean’s touch.  “I don’t-I don’t know, I-,”

And it’s true, Castiel doesn’t know what to tell another person to do to him.  He knows what he likes to do to himself when he masturbates, but telling someone else how to touch him makes him feel a little lost and embarrassed. 

There is one thing he can think of that he wants to do, but he’s not sure if he has the courage.

“Well, we’ll just have to find out what you like then, won’t we?”  Dean murmurs, then licks his way up to Castiel’s ear, nibbling on the lobe.  He circles his hips, grinding hard against Castiel’s crotch, then sinks his teeth into his ear.

Castiel likes it, and Dean can tell.  He feels Dean smile against his neck before placing a wet kiss there. 

He continues to kiss and nibble as the two rut together, while Castiel simply clings to Dean’s smooth back.  He wants to do more, but he’s scared.  He’s nervous he’ll screw up and upset Dean in some way that will make him leave. 

But he can’t just lie there while Dean does everything.  What they’re doing now feels so good, but he knows he has to make a move or risk Dean getting bored.  The idea of that sounds much worse than attempting something Dean turns down.  If Dean says no, they can do something else, but if Dean gets bored with Castiel, it would be devastating.

So he doesn’t give Dean the chance.

He grabs Dean’s arms and flips them over so he’s on top.  The whole car rocks and creaks, but soon settles.  It’s a little disorienting, especially with how dizzy he already is, but the look on Dean’s face makes it so worth it.

Dean grins and pants as he scoots down a bit, then wraps his legs around Castiel’s.  He doesn’t say a word and he doesn’t have to; the smile and the kiss that follows it is enough to tell Castiel he made the right move. 

As they kiss, he can’t help but smile into it.  Knowing that he’s pleased Dean at all tonight makes his heart swell.  He feels Dean’s hand card through his hair again and he loves it.  It’s sweet and wonderful and it’s a closeness that he’s never thought he’d ever have.  He wants Dean’s hands all over him forever.

Soon, he feels one of those hands lower down and tug at his boxer shorts.  

He gasps and pulls away from the kiss just slightly, the feeling of underwear being removed sending an alarming shiver through him. 

“This okay, Cas?”  Dean looks up at him, hopeful but concerned. 

Castiel nods rapidly as he pants, then lowers his own shaking hand to take off Dean’s boxers. 

He lets his hand slide down slowly, feeling Dean’s warm skin and the soft material of the underwear he’s wearing.  They’re tight, black boxer-briefs and they’re sexy as hell.  Castiel has always liked the way they looked on other men, but has never seen a pair up close.  They’re definitely a much better look than the old fish-patterned boxers he has on. 

After giving the side of Dean’s ass one last feel, he hooks his fingers under the band of Dean’s briefs and begins to lower them.  He feels Dean lower his boxers at the same time, and they both wriggle around to help get them off.  It’s a bit clumsy, especially with the way Castiel is shaking, but once they’re finally naked the feeling is glorious.

Castiel lifts himself up on his elbows to peer down at Dean, he wants to get a good a look at him as possible.  He’s so gorgeous, sparsely haired and toned, but not hard-bodied.  His thick, hard cock is curved upward on his belly, and seeing it right next to his own sends a jolt through him. 

He breathes heavily, and he can see that Dean is too, as Castiel lowers his hand to give that gorgeous cock an experimental stroke.  His hand trembles around it, but he manages it, and Dean arches up with a moan. 

With that, Castiel crashes their mouths together again, and this time they’re both moaning.

They writhe and thrust so their cocks slide together just right.  The pressure is amazing, and the feeling of another person wrapped around him and naked with him is so incredible Castiel can barely think straight. 

It’s Dean that’s with him and it’s perfect; it’s more than Castiel ever dreamed he’d have and he’s sure that God sent him.  He hasn’t believed in God for a long time, but Dean’s existence seems such a miracle that there must be some kind of cosmic force involved.  He’s thought that from the beginning.

They kiss and kiss as they thrust together frantically.  Dean’s hands travel all over, from Castiel’s hair, to his shoulder and back, then down to squeeze his ass.  It makes Castiel cry out and push into Dean even harder every time he does it. 

“Dean,” Castiel gasps out onto Dean’s lips. “Dean, I-I need to come, I-“

“I know.  I know, angel, me too.”

Castiel blinks at the nickname, slightly distracted with disbelief at it for a second, until he feels one of Dean’s hands wedge between them.  Once Castiel gets the idea, he bats Dean’s hand away, wanting to take care of this himself. 

Suddenly he desperately wants to be the one to make Dean come.

He gets a hand between their bodies, grabs both their cocks and strokes.  They both groan, arching their necks. 

“Yeah, baby,” Dean grunts, “Oh, God, yeah- _just like that_.” 

He pumps their dicks fast and sloppily, trembling too much to do a steady job at it.  In the back of his mind he hopes he gets another chance to do this better.

Soon, Dean’s hand reaches in to join him, grasping them both with his fingers over Castiel’s.  Having Dean’s hand on him drives him to the brink, and he keens as his head collapses down into the crook of Dean’s neck. 

It’s not long before each hand is on the other’s cock, and now Castiel has a firm, focused grip on Dean’s.  He squeezes, twisting his hand on the upstroke, as Dean does the same to him.  Just a couple more times and they’re both shouting as they’re brought over the edge. 

Castiel sees stars when it happens, coming in streams over the both of them.  It’s unlike any orgasm he’s ever had; it’s much, much better because it’s with someone else.  It’s with Dean.

He can feel the warm, wet spurts of Dean’s come coating the two of them as well, and he strokes him through it as best he can. 

Finally, they’re both spent and Castiel collapses completely, falling limp atop of Dean.  He lays his head beside Dean, keeping it turned toward him.  Dean looks so beautiful, blissful as he catches his breath. 

They lie there in silence for several minutes, just breathing and calming down.  Castiel hugs Dean as tight as he can manage without tucking his arms under him, and he feels Dean’s arms wrap around him.  Dean soothingly strokes his back, and Castiel hums with pleasure, his eyes falling shut for a minute.

Once his mind settles, he replays the event in his head until he gets to the moment Dean calls him ‘angel’.  His eyes shoot open when he remembers it.  “Dean?”

“Hm?” Dean acknowledges him, raising his brows but keeping his eyes closed.

“You called me ‘angel’.  Did you know that I’m named after one? Or…”

“Oh yeah,” Dean chuckles, “Well, I wasn’t sure, but Castiel sounds pretty angelic.”  He turns his head toward Castiel and opens his eyes, smiling.  “Suits you.”

Castiel feels his cheeks heat up and he smiles back, unsure how to respond.  Dean closes his eyes again and starts to stroke Castiel’s hair. 

He just stares at Dean, counting his freckles and tracing the shape of his nose and lips.  He hopes, hopes, hopes they can do this again sometime.  He loves this warmth, this closeness and familiarity.  They were both so excited and he was so nervous before, but now it just feels so comfortable. 

It feels so comfortable being with Dean.

Even though their relationship has been so sexually charged, he knows that what he feels with Dean is more than simply lust.  As nervous as he gets around him, he still finds it much easier to talk with Dean than he has felt with anyone before.  Even his own family. 

Dean seems so accepting and nonjudgmental.  Castiel has always felt like he was strange, but Dean, even though he teases him, makes him feel like maybe that’s okay.  It’s so nice to have that with someone and he would hate for it to go away.

“Dean?”

“Hm?”

Castiel’s eyes dart around a bit, nervous to ask this question, but he needs to know.  “Are we friends?”

“Wha?” Dean’s blinks and opens his eyes, furrowing his eyes brows questioningly.  “Yeah, Cas.  Yeah, ‘course we’re friends.”

It’s so reassuring and sincere that Castiel can’t help but grin.  He squeezes Dean as hard as the warmth in his chest squeezes his heart, and Dean hugs right back.

“I’ve never had a friend before.” Castiel whispers without thinking, and Dean’s shocked jump makes him wince.

Dean turns to face him with a look of disbelief.  “You serious?”

“Yes. I-I know that’s strange, I just-“

“But you’re so…friendly!”

Castiel chuckles, “Thank you, but I wasn’t always.”

From there, the words just come pouring out. 

“I grew up in a big family; wasn’t the oldest or youngest, and I never really did anything to stand out.  Never got in trouble, at least not as much as some of my brothers and sisters did, so I was basically ignored.  We were all homeschooled until high school, and when I got to that age, I really had no idea how to interact with other people so I just…kept to myself.  I was not friendly at all.”

As Castiel spoke, Dean scooted in closer, hugging him.  Castiel’s throat tightens unexpectedly; he’s never told any of this to anyone before.  Dean is so attentive and caring that telling him all of this feels more cathartic than embarrassing.   

“Damn,” Dean whispers, and Castiel breathes out a little laugh.

“I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable.  I know you must think me very strange.”

Dean just smiles and softly strokes Castiel’s cheek with the back of his hand.  “Yeah, Cas, you’re strange, but hell, so am I.  I mean, shit, I don’t have any fuckin’ friends either.  I’m close to my little brother Sammy, but other than him, yeah.  My family moves around too much.”

“Well,” Castiel says, placing his hand over Dean’s.  “wherever you move to, you’ll always have a friend in Pontiac.  You’ll always have my number, Dean.”

With that, Dean presses his lips to Castiel’s, holding them there for a warm kiss.  They part, and rest their foreheads together.  Dean closes his eyes again.

“Dean?”

“Hm?”

“I feel childish asking you all these questions, but,” 

Dean opens his eyes at that and quirks a brow. 

“Do you think we would have been friends in high school?”

“You mean if we’d gone together?”

“Yes.”

“Shit, Cas, if we’d been in school together I would’ve been all over you.  I mean, I am already, but seriously, there would have been _no_ boundaries.  My lips would’ve been perpetually glued to your body.”

Blushing, Castiel cracks up.  “That would have been nice.  I wish that had been the case.”

“Yeah, me too.”  Dean smiles, and Castiel can feel how sincere he’s being. 

“I definitely would’ve had a huge crush on you back then.”

“What, you don’t gotta crush on me now?” 

Castiel downright giggles at that, ducking down and burying his head under Dean’s chin.  “Fair enough.”

They wrap their arms around each other and burrow as closely as possible.  Dean’s body is warm, but the air around them has seemed to cool down quite a bit in the night.  Dean appears to agree, as he reaches behind them to grab his leather jacket and blanket them with it.  Being naked with Dean under the cover of his jacket feels so intimate that it sends a wave of heat through his chest. 

For the next little while, they kiss and cuddle, whispering and laughing about this and that.  Eventually Dean mentions how late it’s getting and they reluctantly sit up and dress slowly, then step out of the car. 

Gentleman as he is, Dean walks Castiel to his car, lighting up a cigarette on the way.  He is such a contradiction in that way, Castiel muses.  His personality absolutely betrays his appearance and Castiel thinks he might really love that about him.  He’s definitely attracted to the leather, the smoking, the guns and all that dark mystery that surrounds Dean, but the sweetness and sincerity underneath all of that is what Castiel is truly infatuated with. 

Castiel grins, his cheeks blushing red as he ducks his head down, feeling a palm on the small of his back. 

Once they’re to the car, Castiel watches as Dean takes the cigarette away from his lips to puff out a long trail of swirling smoke.  With Dean’s lips free, Castiel takes the opportunity to reach up and cup his face to pull him in for a long kiss.  He feels Dean’s hands grab his shoulders, and they both tilt their heads to deepen the kiss.

When they part, neither says a word.  They go to their respective cars, and Castiel waits for Dean to leave before he drives back out into the parking lot.  He clutches his steering wheel and smiles, heat swarming his chest as he recalls every kiss and touch they shared.  He licks his lips and tastes Dean on them. 

For the first time in ages, he goes to bed blissfully happy.

 

As Dean drives back to the motel, he cranks up the radio, letting Robert Plant scream into the night while Jimmy Page wails on the guitar.  It’s past two AM, but Dean doesn’t give a shit about disturbing the peace.  He just had the best night he’s had in a long time and this is how he’s choosing to celebrate.

He has a friend, and even he can admit it feels good.

Still, it boggles his mind that a guy as nice as Cas has gone so many years without a friend, or, if Dean assumes correctly, a lover.  It makes his heart clench, thinking about Cas being lonely and closed off.  It hits a little bit too close to home, and he doesn’t think Cas deserves to be in that situation.

Dean is that way because he has to be, because it’s part of the job; ‘the family business’.  He can’t get close to people, it puts them in danger.  Though somehow he’s managed to indulge himself in getting close to Cas. 

He couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried, which admittedly, he didn’t really try at all.  The way Castiel looks at him with those insanely blue eyes…it’s addictive.  Cas is attentive and kind, he makes Dean feel like he’s not a total failure, and that’s something different for him.  The little notes Cas writes on Dean’s graded homework telling him how impressed he is and what a great job he’s doing mean more to Dean than he could ever express.

It pisses Dean off to think about Cas’ family ignoring him.  Inwardly, he hopes Cas was stretching the truth a bit, but he knows he wasn’t.  Cas is too straight forward a guy for that.  He only says the things that matter.  He doesn’t waste words, and Dean appreciates the hell out of that.

The more Dean thinks about Cas, the more it’s solidified in his mind that he’s well beyond just attracted to him.  He wants to help Cas, he wants to be there for him.

He wants to save him from the ghost he’s fairly certain is haunting him.

While he and Cas were in the Impala doing their pillow-talk thing, the temperature dropped significantly.  Dean knows what this means because he’s been dealing with this shit his whole life, but he kept his mouth closed to avoid freaking Cas out.

The ghost was definitely there.  There’s a difference between the temperature dropping naturally, and it dropping because of a nearby spirit.  It’s a deep chill that he feels in his bones.  Cas wouldn’t be able to tell, but Dean would.  It’s ingrained in him.

If the thing is truly specifically haunting Cas, it would explain why Dean’s EMF meter hasn’t picked up anything at the school.  He hasn’t used the thing around Cas, and he didn’t have it on him during their little date tonight, so he isn’t 100 percent sure. 

Dean squeezes the steering wheel and twists, snarling.  He does _not_ like that this thing has been hanging around Cas all this time and he means to find out why as soon as possible so he can get it the fuck away from him.  The fact that it hasn’t manifested or hurt Cas in any way as far as Dean knows is confusing, but still, he’s gonna salt and burn that fucker with a vengeance.

“Don’t worry, Cas,” Dean whispers, drowned out by Plant’s crooning, “I’ll save you.”

Directly after Dean’s words leave him, the radio cracks and pops, going completely static.  The temperature in the car drops about 20 degrees and the smoke puffing out of Dean’s mouth is not from his cigarette.

“Oh you wanna go now? Alright, bitch, bring it!” Dean shouts and starts to pull over, but before he gets the chance, everything around him goes white.  It’s a bright, blinding flash that makes Dean swerve the car, the tires screeching on the pavement. 

When his vision returns, he blinks and shakes his head in disbelief.  The road he’s driving on is now lit up by the morning sun. 

“What the fuck?” Feeling dizzy, he jerks the wheel and swerves again, nearly colliding with a car driving in the opposite direction that was _not_ there a second ago.  His body stiffens and he sits upright as he straightens out the car. 

“What the fuck, what the fuck,” He whispers over and over as he gapes out at his surroundings, wondering how it looks like it’s around 8 AM right now.

Suddenly, the radio buzzes and clicks back on, drawing Dean’s attention to the inside of the car.  A song starts playing, and the familiar melody causes Dean to recoil in disgust. 

_“Why’d ya hafta go and make things so complicaaated”_

“Oh, God!” Dean angrily switches the thing off and tries to focus on getting his bearings. 

 When he finally gets back to the motel, he gets out of the car and looks around at the place.  There is something off about it.  It looks cleaner.  Newer.

He finds their room number, pulls the key out and opens the door.  The room is empty.  He doesn’t even see any of his family’s things.  There is no evidence of anyone having booked this room at all.  He also notices that the place has significantly fewer stains than he remembers.

“No way.” He breathes, running a hand down his face and looking around in disbelief. 

After getting an EMF meter out of the trunk of the Impala, he quickly scans the motel room.  The red lights of the meter remain dim, and Dean feels no trace of a ghost either. 

He stuffs the meter in his pocket and scrambles to the motel’s front office.  It looks completely different in there too. 

“What time is it?” Dean shouts at the man behind the counter, waking him up from the nap he was taking with his face buried under a newspaper.

“Wha-huh?”

“What time is it?!”

The guy blinks and grumbles, then squints at his watch.  “Almost 8:30.  You alright, son?”

Dean just stares blankly for a moment, letting the information sink in while trying not to freak out about it.  His hands are splayed out to his sides and his knees are bent as if he’s trying to keep balance.  “What _day_ is it?”      

“Saturday.  26th.”

Really, _really_ trying not to freak out, Dean nods slowly and calculates. Okay, that’s the day it should be, but certainly not the right time. There’s only one final thing to check.

Dean gulps.  “Lemme see that paper.”

Walking over to the front desk, he nabs the paper out of the guy’s hand before he can even offer it to him.  His eyes focus in on the very top of the page.

“April 26th, 2003.” He whispers, repeating it a few more times until the information becomes real.

“Great fucking _Scott_.” He looks up from the paper and his eyes go wide. “Ghost fucking Doc Brown’d me.”

After hurling the paper into the air, Dean rushes out of the office.  The guy at the front desk catches the paper before it falls to the floor, then leans back in his chair to resume his nap, draping the paper back over his face. 

“Teenagers.”  He mumbles.

Dean returns to his motel room and plops down on the bed, sitting on the edge of it while trying to gather his thoughts and come up with a plan.  He has to somehow let his dad and brother know where, and when, he is. 

He can’t exactly call them; the phone numbers he has for them would belong to someone else in this time.  He thinks about leaving a note somewhere he knows they’ll see it, but he’s unsure if it will last a whole decade.

A decent enough idea hits him and he digs in his pocket for the knife he keeps on him.  All the furniture in the room looks the exact same as it does 10 years from now, so Dean is fairly certain none of it is going to be moved in that span of time. 

There’s a small table across from the bed Sam was, or will be, sleeping in, and Dean crouches under it.  On the bottom of the wall, he deeply carves the symbol of anti-demonic possession that he knows by heart, given that it’s tattooed on him, then carves an arrow under it, pointing downward.  He cuts a line in the carpet from the wall right underneath the arrow, then pulls it back.  Then, he takes a black marker out of his pocket. 

 _“Dad, Sam,”_ he writes on the cement under the carpet, _“Pontiac HS ghost zapped me back 10 years.  I’m in 2003.  Gonna find out how/why and get back to you.  Dean.”_

“Oh crap.”  Dean mumbles as he realizes a minor detail.

_P.S. Dad, sorry about Deloreaning the Impala”_

“Please, see this.” He pushes the carpet back down and silently prays to whoever’s listening that his family gets his note. 

He decides it’s best to leave other messages where he can, if he can find any other good place to do it.  The school must have some spots for him to leave a note for Sammy to find.  Dean decides to go there next.

It is a pretty big reason why he’s here, after all.

The biggest and most important reason being Castiel, of course.  Dean smiles at that thought, realizing he actually can’t _wait_ to see teenage Mr. Novak.

He waits until the cover of night to break into the school.  With his EMF out as usual, he scans the place up and down.  Remembering Cas’ story, he goes to the gym and scans it thoroughly, including the locker room.  He doesn’t come up with anything.

Keeping his eye on the time as often as possible, he finds it’s already bleeding into Sunday when he’s through scoping out the school.  Though he didn’t come up with anything, he figures it might help for the next time he investigates if he knew the other places Cas spends his time at school, so he breaks into the office to find any files on him.  It’s not long before he finds the manila folder with Cas’ name on it, containing only a single sheet of paper.  It’s his class schedule, which also includes his locker number and combination.

“That’ll do.” Dean nods with a smirk. 

Then, he goes over to one of the desks in the office to use the computer.  He forges a schedule for himself, using Office fucking _2000_ and prints it up.  It looks enough like Cas’ official one to get by. 

Satisfied, he whistles as he looks around for Cas’ locker.  When he finds it, he runs the EMF up and down it, and for the first time since he’s been in this town, the thing actually blips.  It’s just a small blink of red, but it’s enough to make Dean grin.

“A-ha! I’ll get you yet, mother fucker.”  He flips the meter in the air and catches it, stuffing it back in his pocket. 

As he turns to head out of the building, he peers over his shoulder to look around the hall behind him one last time.  He feels a tingle in his chest and his cheeks start to feel slightly hot.

“See ya tomorrow, Cas.”  


	5. Quantum Reintroductions

When he enters the room it’s nothing short of reality-altering.  The atmosphere shifts with his body, with the squeak of his leather jacket, whoosh of his blue jeans, and the clomp-clomp of his worker boots.  The sunglasses he wears shield him from his own radiance, while his honey colored hair glistens in it. 

This figure is the embodiment of everything that brings Castiel to ruins: The Bad Boy.

He certainly isn’t the first “Bad Boy” that Castiel had ever seen, there are plenty of troublemakers at their school and Castiel has a special place in his heart, or his pants, for each of them.  This particular boy, however, is something new entirely.  He is Bad Boy to the nth degree.  He would be the photo next to the term in an Encyclopedia of Life Ruiners.

Castiel swallows hard and turns away, hoping that his perception of reality will return to normal if he looks at something aside from this otherworldly being.  Advantageously, he's sitting in the back of the classroom, unable to see this new boy up close.

Their teacher turns to the doorway and glances up at New Bad Boy from over her reading glasses.  “Can I help you?”

“Maybe.  This physics?”

As should have been expected, his voice is panty melting.  It's gruffness, whiskey, and cigarettes and it's made to be whispered on to bare, sweaty skin.  His voice summons Castiel’s eyes back up to him, much to his chagrin.  Just those three words out of those luscious lips cause Castiel’s heart to thrum and his legs to squirm. 

“It is.”  She responds, less than amused.  Castiel scorns her for her lack of appreciation.

“Then I guess I’m in the right place.  I’m Dean, I’m new here.”

Getting up from her desk, she glares at him, snatching _Dean’s_ schedule from his grip.  She eyeballs it for a second, gathers whatever information she requires, then shoves it back at him.  _The nerve of that woman._

“Where are your supplies?”

Dean pats his pockets until he feels what he's searching for, an ‘a-ha’ expression appearing on his face.  He pulls a yellow pencil from his jacket and waggles it between his thumb and forefinger.

“I have a pencil.”  He intones smugly.  A couple of students laugh, and Castiel bites his lip.

“Wonderful.  Take a seat.  There’s a free one in the back.”  She gestures with a tilt of her head as she returns to her own desk.  “And take those sunglasses _off._ ”

As Dean saunters to the back of the class, sunglasses still on, Castiel steels himself, keeping his eyes to his desk.  He will not, absolutely will not, fall prey to this…this _predator._   This sinful creature born of Castiel’s every fantasy.  Castiel is better than that; he isn’t some weak child that would fall to pieces over some leather-clad jerk. 

Unfortunately for Castiel, his heart totally ignores his brain as it continues on thumping harder and harder as said creature draws nearer. 

More unfortunate still, is that the only empty seat in the classroom is the one right next to Castiel.

As soon as Dean walks into the classroom, he seems him.  Fortunately his eyes are covered by his aviators, so doing a quick scan of the students in the room goes unnoticed.  However, he doesn’t even need half a second to locate those bright baby blues in the crowd.  Dean is fairly fucking certain he could pick Castiel out of a sea of hundreds of people.  No one stands out quite like Cas does, in his hunched over, not-wanting-to-stand-out sort of way. 

A rush of heat swarms his chest, then flows back out again upon seeing him.  It’s a mixture of relief that he’s feeling, knowing he’s in the right place, along with all the other things Castiel makes Dean feel.

It's difficult to suppress smiling as he notices Castiel staring at him.  Dean stares right back for a moment, under the protection of his sunglasses, and it only gets more difficult not to smile at how adorable teenage Cas looks. 

Apparently when Cas was a teenager, he really kept himself looking prim and tidy.  His hair is parted and swept to the side, his glasses are perfectly straight on the bridge of his nose, he’s clean shaven, and there is not a single wrinkle in his clothes.  Very different to the Mr. Novak from Dean’s time.  Dean can’t decide which version looks better.  He does, however, think that running his hands through Cas’ hair and tearing at his clothes until he looks more like his future self seems like a fantastic idea.

But that’s a thought for another time.

Right now he has to answer this instant bitch of a teacher. 

“Can I help you?”  The lady dips her head down so she can glare up at him as if his mere presence were an absolute nuisance, just like every other teacher has ever looked at him.  Every teacher except for Mr. Novak, that is. 

“Maybe.  This physics?” 

“It is.” 

“Then I guess I’m in the right place.  I’m Dean, I’m new here.”

 “Where are your supplies?” She gripes after shoving his class schedule back at him.   

Unfazed by the teacher’s attitude, Dean searches his pockets before successfully finding the one pencil he always keeps on him.  School is bull shit, and he’s not here to learn anyway, so really a pencil is all he needs to get by. 

“I have a pencil.”  He says, making sure to sound annoyingly pleased with himself.

“Wonderful.”  She replies, voice dripping with disdain.  “Take a seat.  There’s a free one in the back.”  She’s gestures towards the empty desk that Dean was already aware of; the one next to Castiel. 

He’s halfway down the row of desks when he tunes the teacher out completely, vaguely hearing some expected complaint from her about his sunglasses.  He keeps them on of course, so he can eye Castiel the entire way to his desk.  He’s hunched over, gaze fixed on his textbook even though it’s clear he’s not really reading it.  Hints of that trademark Mr. Novak nervousness can be read all over him, and it’s endearing as hell. 

Dean plops down into his chair, leaning forward on the desk with his arms crossed, the collar of his brown leather jacket popped up and covering about half his face.  He turns his head slightly to the left, looking over his collar at Castiel.  Eyeing him closely, Dean notices the little tendrils of hair sticking up on the back of his head as if maybe there _is_ a bit of that messy Castiel trying to break free of all that squeaky-cleanness.

Leaning back slowly, Dean keeps his eyes on Cas.  His chair squeaks as his back thuds into it and he tilts his head down a bit.  He can see Cas getting more and more fidgety under Dean’s stare, but still refusing to look his way.  Eventually, Dean uses his pencil to push his sunglasses down his nose past his eyes.

And that does it.

A blue eye flashes his way along with a growled, “What?”

Dean purses his lips to keep from smiling as he uses his pencil to remove his sunglasses completely.  “Nothin’.  Hi. I’m Dean.”

Finally, Dean earns the full attention of his target as he turns to face him.  “Hello.  I’m Castiel.”

Dean smiles. 

As their class goes on, Castiel finds it hard to focus.  He keeps looking at Dean out of the corner of his eye and he can’t help but notice that he’s just sitting there, leaning back in his chair and staring out into space, wiggling that pencil of his between his fingers.  Castiel desperately wants to talk to him, wants to offer him some paper to write on or to share his book with him, but he physically can’t do it.  Just introducing himself to Dean made him break out into a sweat; the idea of speaking to him again makes his heart stop.

He can’t very well speak properly if his internal organs aren’t functioning.

At one point during the lesson, one of Castiel’s classmates Benny makes a joke, and Dean joins in.  They both laugh and high five each other, continuing to cut up occasionally throughout the rest of class.  They seem to get along famously right away, and Castiel feels an unexpected pang of jealousy while watching them.  He’s not sure what he’s jealous about exactly; whether it’s how easily this new kid gets along with one of the most popular guys in school, or if he’s jealous of Benny for getting to talk to Dean at all. 

If he’s completely honest with himself, he’d say it’s both. 

Castiel can’t help but look at Dean when he laughs, he has a beautiful smile that reaches his eyes, and he wishes so much that it were being directed at him.  It’s only a small, quiet chuckle, but it’s still a sight to behold.  And the way Dean chews on his pencil sends all kinds of tingles through him and he knows that if he doesn’t look away he’s going to have to ask for the hall pass to excuse himself.  He sighs, then rests his forehead in the palm of his hand, burying himself in note-taking.

As soon as the bell to end class rings, Castiel grabs his books and backpack and scurries out of the room.  His eyes don’t leave the floor until he reaches his locker, at which point he realizes he hasn’t been breathing.  He takes a few deep breaths, squares his shoulders then opens up his locker. 

He’s gotten over all of his other crushes, he can get over this one, as instantly intense as it is.

Out of his peripheral vision he sees a body lean against the locker next to his. 

“Hey.  That’s my locker.”

“What?” Castiel turns to Dean, who’s holding up his class schedule and pointing to the locker number on it.  It’s the same as his.  Typical of the school to forget he exists and assign his locker to a new student.  He sighs.

“I’m sorry, um,”

Dean just shrugs, “Ain’t your fault.  Bunch of monkeys runnin’ this school, huh?”

Castiel squints at him.  “Don’t insult monkeys like that.”

They stare for a moment, then Dean busts out laughing.  Castiel can’t stop the quirk of a smile on his face from being happy that he’s finally gotten something he’s wished for.  This is definitely a much bigger laugh than any Dean shared with Benny earlier.  Castiel takes a small amount of pride in that and it makes his heart flutter.

“My humble apologies.” Dean says with a hand on his chest. He straightens, then walks behind Castiel, nudging him with his elbow. “See you around, Cas.”

Castiel stares after him, frozen in place.  He is not sure as it is entirely unprecedented, but he thinks he might have just been flirted with by the most beautiful man he’s ever seen.

His heart thuds hard and he flushes.  The bell for his next class rings, and he startles then takes off running. 

Upon stumbling into his class, he freezes yet again in disbelief at what he’s seeing.  Dean is standing right in front of him, showing his schedule to his teacher.  Castiel slowly slinks around him and goes to his lab table, knowing full well he is the only one in the class without a partner.  He gulps as he sees Dean stride toward him. 

“Well, hi there.”  Dean greets him with an amused grin.

“You’re in this class too?”

“Looks that way.  That’s not a problem, is it?”

“No, not at all.”  Castiel steels himself, unwilling to appear vulnerable.  “That is unless you plan to slack off.”

“Not a chance.  You can count on me, babe.”  With a click of his tongue, he winks, pulling his pencil out from behind his ear as he sits down.

Castiel blinks for a moment, then realizes he’s the only student in the classroom still standing, so he finally sits down next to him. 

Dean is not only in physics, but now chemistry as well.  Castiel can’t say he’s unimpressed.  He hopes that Dean is true to his word though, because Castiel chooses to work alone for a reason.  Other students hold him back.  Not that any of them would have chosen him as a partner anyway.

Once they are assigned their project, which is the final one of the year, Castiel is pleased to see Dean get straight to work.  He’s helpful and cautious when gathering and setting up the equipment they need, and completely focused on the task at hand. 

It’s Castiel who ends up screwing up a couple times because he and Dean are so close together while they work that it’s making him feel dizzy.  There are several times when Dean’s hand brushes his and every time it happens it sends a chill up his arm and he fumbles with whatever he’s holding.  Dean’s always quick to catch anything before it falls, never missing the chance to playfully tease Castiel about it. 

“Geez, butterfingers.  Good thing we aren’t working with anything flammable today.”

“Shut up.” Castiel grumbles because it’s the only thing he can think of to say.  He knows he’s missing an opportunity to work out some pun to call Dean ‘hot’, but flirting is far too out of his realm to manage it.  Dean still chuckles so that’s good enough for him. 

When class is nearly over, Dean insists on putting all the equipment away, telling Castiel he’s the reason why they can’t have nice things.  Castiel glares at him, his lips curling up just slightly despite his efforts to appear displeased.

They sit quietly for a few minutes waiting on the bell to ring, Dean’s chin resting on his hand and Castiel sitting up straight with his hands on his knees. 

“So, you wanna work on this thing after school some time?”

At that, he turns to Dean and feels anxiety start to rise up in his chest.  He doesn’t know what to say to that; he knows what he should say, but is it what he wants to say?  He thinks it is, but he’s afraid of it.  Dean turns to him and quirks a brow, looking at him expectantly. 

“Yes.” 

“Okay,” Dean drags out teasingly, “When?  Today?”

Castiel is slightly taken aback by that suggestion.  Dean is apparently a lot more studious than Castiel thought.  However, he doesn’t think he’s ready for that; the thought of having Dean at his house so soon makes him lightheaded.  Fortunately he has an out.  “No, I can’t today.  I have track.”

“Oh, you’re in track?  That’s cool.  No wonder you got such a great ass.”

The bell rings before Castiel can even process that statement, and Dean gets up to leave, tapping him lightly on the shoulder with his pencil.  Castiel watches him walk out.

“What the hell is happening?” he whispers to himself before finally getting up to leave, feeling like his face is on fire and he’s walking on air.  


	6. Ratio of Fantastic to Horrible

Dean is fairly fucking positive that this is the best time he’s ever had on a job.  It hardly even feels like work, going from class to class to flirt and tease Cas.  He gets so adorably flustered and irritated and it only serves to encourage Dean to do it more. 

Frankly, he’s having the time of his life.

Walking down the hall to the next class he shares with Cas, he flips his pencil into the air, watching it spin and then catching it with a grin on his face.  He thinks putting himself in all of Cas’ classes was one of the best ideas he’s ever had. 

Obviously he didn’t put himself in track because he would have had to try out for that, so he just typed in PE instead.  At least then he’d get more opportunities to investigate the gym and locker room. 

He thinks about the differences between this Cas and future-Mr. Novak-Cas; they definitely extend beyond just their appearance.  Teenage Cas is definitely more on the anti-social side, rather than just shy like Mr. Novak is.  Cas in the future might still be nervous and quiet, but he’s definitely not standoffish like he apparently used to be.  Dean doesn’t fault teenage Cas for his attitude though because from what his future self has told him, he can understand it.

Teenage Cas and Mr. Novak aren’t really that big of a stretch though.  Dean can see how one might result in the other.  This Cas is definitely very focused on his school work, and Mr. Novak is pretty much the adult version of that, however friendlier. 

Dean wonders if Cas will still turn out the same if he gets rid of this ghost that’s been fucking with him.  He wonders just how much the ghost has had an effect on him, or if Castiel’s personality has more to do with his upbringing.  What exactly did this ghost bring him here for? It puzzles the shit out of him, but today he’s having a bit too much fun to think too hard about it.

Every step of the way though, he wonders how much he’s changed the future so far.  If at all.

The next class on the list is AP history, which turns out to be a total snooze.  He sits behind Cas instead of beside him, so it’s a little harder to get his attention without getting a dirty look from him and the teacher.  Not an entirely bad location though; he’ll make it work.   Also, Benny is in that class which is a bonus because he seems like a cool enough guy. 

It’s then that it occurs to him that he’s actually enjoying going to school.  Dean finds it incredibly fucking odd that he’s enjoying school at all, especially a school that he shouldn’t even be in.  At least not this year.

In the middle of history is their lunch break, which he joins Benny to, since Cas took off too quickly again for Dean follow.  He sits at the table across from Benny, and diagonal to him is Benny’s super-hot girlfriend Andrea who he’s introduced to.  The rest of Benny’s friends seem like typical football douche bags, so he doesn’t really pay them much attention. 

“Hey Benny, you know what time track meets after school?”

Benny lowers the juice pouch that looks ridiculous in his beefy hand and sneers. “Uh, after school, genius.”

“What, like right after?”

“Mhm,” He answers, his southern drawl bleeding through every syllable.

“Yeah,” Andrea pipes in, “They’re usually out there while we’re practicing.” 

“Right, okay.”  Dean nods.  Andrea is a cheerleader, so he thinks her information’s good.  

“Why do you ask?”

“Uh,” As Dean starts to answer, his eyes fall on a certain dark haired boy sitting alone just a couple tables down from theirs.  “No reason.”

He stares at Cas, waiting for him to look up so he can get his attention, but he’s not budging.  His head’s buried in some book while he eats. 

“Hey, Benny, lemme have a fry.” 

As soon as Benny scoots his tray over, Dean grabs a French fry and chunks it towards Cas’ table.  It doesn’t go far enough, so Cas doesn’t notice. 

“The hell you doin’?  Tryin’ to start a food fight on your first day?”

Dean ignores him and takes another fry.  This one makes it to Cas’ table, landing right in front of him.  Castiel looks at it like he’s never seen one before in his life.  His curious expression makes Dean grin like a goof.  Even Benny turns to see what he’s looking at. 

Eventually, Cas’ gaze finds Dean, and Dean waves him over.  Cas’ just looks even more confused, his eyes darting around as if he’s not sure who Dean’s signaling.  He points to himself and raises his eye brows. 

Dean laughs and nods exaggeratedly. “Yes, you, Cas! Get over here!” 

He pats the empty space to his left as he watches Cas apprehensively pick up his tray and make his way over. 

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey.” Dean eyes him with a grin, distracted for a moment by Cas’ young, pretty features.  Up so close, it’s plain to see the vast differences in appearance between Now Cas and Future Cas.  He’s still gorgeous in the future, but his face is buried under those crooked glasses, those worry lines and dark circles, scruffiness and messy hair.  He sighs as he hopes fiercely that he can somehow manage to diminish a bit of that worry. 

After a minute or so, Dean realizes by the befuddled look Castiel is giving him that he’s been staring at him like a creeper.  In fact, he realizes further, they’ve both just been staring silently at each other.  Suddenly Dean is hyper aware of the other people around.  He clears his throat in a thinly veiled effort to play off the awkwardness. 

“Uh, you know Benny, right?  And Andrea?” Dean gestures to them, feeling a bit funny about introducing Cas to people even though he’s the new kid.  Castiel gives them a quick nod which Benny returns with an “Hola”.

“Um, I don’t believe we’ve met.  What was your name?  Cas?”  Andrea smiles warmly at him, an expression Castiel doesn’t return.

“Castiel.  We have AP English together.”

“Oh, oh, right.  I’m sorry.  Well, it’s nice to formally meet you.”

Castiel nods at her again, then turns his attention back to his food.  Dean looks between them awkwardly, and Andrea gives him a shrug.  Benny seems unaffected.  Dean heaves a sigh, thinking that could’ve gone worse. 

Resting his chin on his fist, he watches Castiel.  He’s back to reading again, a burger in one hand and the other keeping the pages of the book spread open.  He looks stoic as ever, aside from the rapidly bobbing leg under the table.  Dean eyes the leg, wanting badly to scoot in closer and place a calming hand on him, but he holds back.  They’re not quite there yet. 

After a minute of being scrutinized, Castiel closes his book and turns to Dean.  His annoyed look turns to curiosity as he looks from Dean to the empty space on the table in front of him.  His mouth half full of cheeseburger, he asks, “Where’s your lunch?”

“Hm?  Oh, I didn’t bring one.”

“You didn’t want to buy one?”

“No cash.”  He shrugs.  That’s not exactly true, but Dean doesn’t know how long he’s going to be not-in-Kansas-anymore, so he has to ration.  He can live off one meal a day.  He has before.

Apparently Dean’s manner of thinking is the opposite of Castiel’s.  He looks at Dean almost horrified, his eyes wide, big blue surrounded by white.  “Dean!  You’re a growing young man with a lightning fast metabolism.  You need to be eating regularly!”

“Yeah, okay, Mom, calm down!  It’s fine, I’ll eat later.” 

“Here.”  Castiel says, ignoring him.  He splits his burger in half and puts it to the side, along with a generous portion of fries and a scoop of ketchup.  He even halves his dessert pastry.  “Eat that.”

When Dean doesn’t move, Castiel glares at him, setting his own half of the burger down until Dean gets the message.  He submits with a laugh, taking a huge bite of the burger, and involuntary hum rumbling in his throat.  Castiel looks incredibly pleased at that.

 “Thanks, Cas.”  Dean says, wiping his hands after he’s done with his half of the meal.  “I owe you.”

“Nonsense.  Just don’t skip meals, it’s foolish.”  He says plainly, licking some fry salt off of his forefinger.  Dean watches, miraculously able to stifle another pleased hum he feels on the edge of his tongue. 

The bell rings and they both get up, Dean helping Cas gather his trash.  Castiel hands Dean his soda, telling him to drink the rest.  Dean smiles appreciatively, then chugs it down. 

“You know, you’re a lot sweeter than you want people to think you are.”   It just falls out of Dean’s mouth, like his brain couldn’t contain the thought because he was thinking it too strongly. 

Castiel stills, gaping at him.  He makes a choked off noise and blinks, adjusting his glasses while fumbling a bit to get his book and lunch tray.  Dean takes the tray himself, then adds, “Walk me to class?”

Castiel nods automatically, still wearing a stunned expression.  They exit the lunch room, then walk to class shoulder to shoulder in silence. 

Running laps is one of Castiel’s favorite ways to sort his thoughts.  He’s on his second one now and he’s still trying to decide whether today was the most stressful, strangest, or best days of his life.  It’s probably a mixture of all three.

An uncontrollable smile forms on his lips as he replays all of his conversations with Dean today.  In fact, just thinking about Dean makes Castiel’s face twitch oddly.  The rest of his body seems to twitch as well, along with his insides which have been doing all kinds of crazy flips and flops all day. 

He feels like he’s losing his breath a little quicker than he usually does while he’s running.  It seems like he’s been out of breath all day. 

During their last class, Dean showed Castiel his schedule, and it made his heart leap.  It’s nearly identical to Castiel’s, save for Dean not being in track of course.  He has PE while Castiel is in his Business Computer class.  He actually feels a little disappointed by that, he’s surprised to find.  However, he reasons it’s for the best that he has some small breaks to recover between bouts of Dean. 

He thinks he’ll probably get used to being around Dean after a while, that he’ll probably feel less…drunk around him.  Not that he even knows what being drunk feels like, but he imagines the wobbly lightheadedness he feels around Dean must be close to it. 

Actually, he thinks he might have a new understanding of alcoholism, because deep down, he knows he doesn’t really want that feeling to go away.  He _likes_ that sort of dizzy excitement he gets around Dean, even though the resulting clumsiness has been somewhat detrimental, not to mention embarrassing.   He chuckles to himself as he runs, shaking his head. 

Earlier when the two were going over Dean’s schedule, Castiel’s eyes focused in on the locker number again.  He can’t help but feel it such a crazy coincidence.  He musters up the courage to offer that Dean share his locker.

“That is if you ever plan on acquiring more school supplies.”

“Well, I need a place to store my pencil don’t I?” 

After their last class, Castiel goes to his locker and Dean follows.  Once Castiel sets down his books, Dean places his pencil on top of it, right in the center, making sure it’s perfectly straight.  He nods at it, then gives Castiel a big, satisfied smile.

Castiel can’t remember the last time he’s laughed that hard, if ever.  Dean looks even more proud about that.  With a clap on the shoulder from Dean, they part ways for the day.  Castiel watches him leave, a warm glow settling in his chest.  He realizes then that it’s not just his attraction to Dean that’s giving him such a good feeling, it’s the prospect of actually having a friend in him. 

Following his third lap, he pauses to take a quick breather.  He walks over to the bench and grabs his water jug, taking a few swigs before setting it down and jogging again. 

“Hey, Novak!”  He hears from a distance beside him.  He looks around curiously, his eyes finding a familiar leather jacket.  “Nice ass!”

Castiel nearly trips.

Everyone else on the field hoots and laughs, whistling and rooting for Castiel.  It’s something he’s never experienced before, not even at actual track meets.  He thinks it almost makes sense now for Dean to be the catalyst for the first time anyone’s ever cheered for him.  It still feels good somehow, even though Castiel is fairly sure it’s mostly in a mocking way.  He at least knows Dean’s compliment was sincere.

That fact makes his face heat up more than anything.  He looks over his shoulder to find Dean smiling at him on the other side of the fence, his fingers hooked on the chain links.

He hears his coach holler at Dean to beat it, and Dean does so, but not before giving Castiel a wink and a wave.

Castiel keeps on running because he has no idea what else to do.  He just laughs, his blushing face buried in his hand. 

Later, Castiel takes his time in the shower, letting the hot water cleanse his body and mind.  He doesn’t get out until the water starts to get cool, and the locker room is free of people.  He prefers the solitude; the other students are too rowdy. 

With his towel wrapped around his waist, he heads to his locker and gets dressed.  Absently, he notices that the lights in the room seem dimmer than usual.  He chalks it up to being late after school and continues getting dressed.  Once he slides his glasses on, he notices it’s gotten rather cold.  Chilly, in fact. 

The temperature drop is so significant that Castiel starts to shiver.  It makes him nervous, so he gathers his things hurriedly.  He knows what this feeling it; it’s happened before.  His hands shake and teeth clatter, puffs of smoke leaving his lips. 

It just keeps getting colder and colder.  Chills run through his body inside and out.

He finds that he’s stopped moving, arms clutching his book bag to his chest and knees buckling.  His glasses are rattling on his nose and they keep sliding down, but he’s too frozen stiff to fix them.  The longer he stands still, the more he feels the sensation of something clutching at him, wrapping around him tighter and tighter. 

This strange force squeezes at him, the walls creak around him, and Castiel _can’t move_. 

As soon as he realizes he’s stopped breathing, the squeezing feeling leaves him in an outward gust of harsh, loud wind. 

Castiel catches his breath, looking around him, panicked.  The temperature has returned to normal, but Castiel doesn’t wait around long enough to notice it.  He leaves the school in a hurry, briskly leaving the building and not looking back. 

He pedals his bike home furiously, then immediately runs up to his bedroom. 

That night, he tosses and turns.  His sleep is filled with nightmares. 

He wakes to his alarm, shaking violently, drenched in a cold sweat. 

The fear in his gut doesn’t leave him until he sees Dean in his first class that morning.  It vanishes instantly upon seeing him walk in, which he should think strange, but he’s filled with such relief that he can’t trouble himself with it.

Dean makes a kid move so he can sit next to Castiel, and they smile at each other.  Last night’s horror is forgotten, for now.

Last night was fuckin’ crazy. 

At around 10pm Dean went to the school and his EMF started blinking immediately.  They were just short flashes of red light, the needle on the meter just barely twitching, but it was enough to get Dean going. 

Before heading to the gym to investigate as usual, he decided to take the opportunity to leave some messages behind for Sam to see in the future.  He went to Sam’s locker and carved the anti-demonic possession symbol in it, then wrote a message in permanent marker saying what year he’s in. 

He hopes to fuck that works.

He started walking along towards the gym, and noticed the activity on the meter increasing.  By the time he got to the gym locker room the thing was going nuts.  Humming and buzzing with the needle all the way the in the red and every little light glowing bright. 

The locker room looked disturbed, definitely messier than usual.  The flyers on the corkboard were skewed, some fallen on the ground.  Benches were slanted, and any towels left on them were now on the ground. 

Not to mention it was cold as fuck.

“Alright, dude.  Come on out.”  Dean stood in the middle of the locker room, flashlight in one hand and shot gun in the other, his meter tucked back in his jacket pocket.  Nothing happened.  Dean groaned.

“Just gonna hide out then?  Come on, I just wanna talk.  Gun’s just a safety precaution.”

He heard a faint creak and he turned his flashlight to it, but saw nothing.  He checked the meter again and it was still all red.

Heaving a sigh, he sat on one of the benches, resting the gun and flashlight in his lap.  “Well, it’s obvious you’re here so I’ll just talk at ya then. 

“Look, it’s clear you got a hard on for Cas, and I can’t blame ya, but if you’re trying to pick someone up, freaking them out is not the way to do it.  Also, considering the fact that you’re dead, it’s probably not gonna work out. 

“Anyway, you obviously zapped me here for a reason, and if it’s to help Cas then I’m all for it.  Hell, I’m doing that anyway.  But, I’m gonna need some answers.  It seems like you haven’t attacked him so far, so I’m willing to cooperate.  Soon as that changes though, your tour beyond the grave is over.”

Still no response, so Dean took the meter out to watch it.  Slowly, it dimmed and the dial moved back into the green.  The room began to noticeably warm back up.

Dean grumbled and rolled his eyes.  “Not ready to deal yet, huh?  Alright, whatever.  We’ll chat tomorrow.”

After such a great day, it only makes sense for a shitty night to balance it out. 

Now, it’s day two of his little Back to the Future Past Whatever adventure, and he hasn’t really made shit for progress with the ghost.  Though, at least things are going well with Cas, and boy is he a sight for sore eyes.

He’s been giving Dean the sweetest damn smile he’s ever seen on him since the moment he walked in the classroom.  It fills Dean with all kinds of warm fuzzies that he’s not even going to try to ignore anymore. 

So Dean just carries on doing what Dean does best.

“Mornin’, babe.”  He grins as he wiggles his trusty pencil between his fingers, making Cas chuckle.  He leans over and clutches a leg of Cas’ desk, then drags it towards him until they’re right next to each other.  “Share books with me?”

Cas looks at him, his confusion at his desk being moved subsiding quickly.  “Of course.”  He says, his smile back in place as he scoots his English book over where their two desks connect.

Dean _really_ likes that smile.  


	7. Zero Gravity

This is _a bit much._

Everything the past day and a half has been a bit much, but this is really pushing it.

Castiel is in the passenger seat of the only car that’s ever made the word “sexy” appear in his brain.  That is exactly what it is though.  Castiel has never cared much about automobiles, but this one is impressive.  It’s big, sleek and black, sharp and fierce with a deep rumbling engine.  Dean fits it perfectly.

Dean says it’s a 1967 Chevy Impala.  Castiel says something along the lines of it being just as majestic as the animal it’s named for. 

Dean laughs, lovingly patting the dashboard.  “Hear that, baby?  Cas thinks you’re majestic.” 

They’re on the way to Castiel’s house do to their chemistry homework.  Castiel suggested it during lunch while sitting next to him again. 

Castiel hopes he’s a permanent fixture at the lunch table with Dean and his friends.  Judging from the way Dean tugged him from the lunch line to their table, he thinks he probably is.

It’s for Dean’s own good that Castiel sit with him apparently, as Dean refuses to buy his own lunch.  He also refuses to let Castiel buy one for him, so he split his own in half again to share it.  He wonders why Dean doesn’t have money for lunch, or food to bring from home.  It worries him, but Dean, though sweet, has a dark mystery about him that makes Castiel a bit afraid to pry.

To Castiel, it seems like Dean poofed out of nowhere.  He seems fictional, like he walked out of a fantasy that Castiel hasn’t even come up with yet. 

Before too long, they’re at his house.  It seems entirely too soon.  Castiel gulps down the heat flooding his chest. 

Maybe he wasn’t ready for this yet. 

Unfortunately, due dates don’t account for Castiel’s social ineptitude. 

“Whoa,” Dean says, peering past Castiel out of the passenger window at his house.  “You live in a friggin’ mansion, man.”

“Wha-oh,” Castiel stutters, distracted by the way Dean is leaning over him, his leathery, smoky smell whizzing through his brain. “I have a very large family.”

“And rich parents?”

“They’re successful.”

“I’ll say.”  Dean whistles, shaking his head before scooting out of the driver’s side door.  Castiel follows suit, delayed a bit by wondering what the expression on Dean’s face could have meant.

As they walk up to the front door, Castiel feels his heart pound harder and harder.  This is the first time he’s ever brought a fellow student, a friend, a _crush_ to his house before.  He takes a deep breath then opens the door, ushering Dean inside first. 

Dean pauses in the foyer, looking around and whistling again.  As Castiel guides him upstairs to his room, Dean keeps mumbling curse words and looking at everything in complete awe.

Up the staircase and all the way down the length of the hall is Castiel’s bed room.  When they get there, Dean asks, “Where is everybody?  It’s way too big and quiet in this place.”

Hand on the door knob to his room, Castiel pauses.  “I don’t know.”  He says blankly, then opens the door, once again ushering Dean in ahead of him. 

“Fuck!” Dean exclaims, making Castiel jump a bit.  “You room is fucking massive!  Bigger than the motel room!”

“Motel room?”  Castiel asks, forgetting about his fear of prying for the moment.  He walks over to the desk on the side of his bed and sets his things down. 

“Oh, uh, the one I’m stayin’ at.”  Dean mumbles it at the floor.

“You’re staying at a motel?  Your family hasn’t gotten a house yet?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” 

The way Dean brushes it aside tells Castiel he shouldn’t explore this further, but his curiosity won’t leave him.  Dean seems to pick up on that, catching Castiel’ eyes and rolling his.

Castiel sits down on his bed and pats it.  “Please, have a seat, Dean.”

Somewhat timidly, Dean walks over to the bed and sits on the very edge of it, slumped with his hands in his jacket pockets.  Castiel eyes him curiously for a moment before it hits him that Dean feels out of place.

“Here, Dean, let me take your coat.  And take your shoes off.  Get comfortable, please.” 

Dean obliges, hands Castiel the heavy brown leather coat, which he just barely resists putting in his face and sniffing before draping over his desk chair.  Dean takes his big, scuffed boots off and sets them to the side neatly.  He remains sitting on the very edge of the bed, twiddling his thumbs like he’s waiting to be punished or something.

Castiel squints at him, wondering what exactly it’s going to take to get Dean to be comfortable here.  So, he decides he’ll have Dean do what he does to get comfortable in his room. 

He sits at the head of his bed, pillows tucked behind his back, then he pats the space next to him.  “Join me, Dean.”

Dean gives him a borderline lecherous look then, though Castiel hasn't the foggiest clue why.  Timidly, again, he scoots a bit further onto the bed, his hands pressing down on the mattress, sinking into the thick, white comforter. 

“Oh my God,” He says before giving in and collapsing.  “Cas, if I didn’t like you, I would hate you.  This is the most comfortable bed on the planet.” 

Castiel quirks a brow.  “Thank you?”

Evidently Dean feels right at home now, as he begins rolling around and spreading across the bed, exploring every soft inch of it before finally settling next to Castiel.  He lets out a long, contented sigh, to which Castiel can’t hold in his laughter anymore. 

“What?  I’m just takin’ in all the luxury while I can have it.  I did mention I live in motels, right?”  The instant he says it, he looks like he regrets it.  He rests his head on the mounds of pillows, then looks toward the window. 

The more small glimpses Castiel gets into Dean’s life, the more he finds he wants to take care of him. “Motels - plural?  So you have to stay at them often?”

“Yeah,” Dean breathes, then turns back to Castiel, a remorseful smile on his face.  “With my Dad’s job we move around a lot.  My Dad, my brother Sam and me.”

Castiel nods, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together.  He can’t imagine living in such close quarters with his family.  “You have a brother then?  How old is he?”

“He’s 14.”

“Oh.  Is he going to our school as well?”

“Uh,”  Dean starts at that for some reason as he sits up.  “No, he uh, well,”

“It’s alright, Dean, you don’t have to share anything you don’t wish to.  I’d just like to get to know you better.”

“Thanks,” He whispers with an appreciative smile.  “Well, what can I tell ya?  I’m Dean, 18 years old, from Lawrence, Kansas.  Got a geeky little brother who farts too much, and a grumpy old fart of a dad.  And I love em both.”

“I see, thanks for telling me.”  Castiel smiles, a subtle warmth resting inside him.  “So you’re close with your family?  I guess that makes sharing a small space not too bad.  I can’t imagine having to share a bed with one of my siblings.”

Dean huffs.  “Yeah, me n’ Sammy are close.  But as far as beds, I usually let him have it.  I take the cot.”

“A cot?!”

“It’s not that bad! I mean, it ain’t this,” He says, bouncing the mattress up and down, “but it’s not complete shit.”

Castiel opens his mouth to protest, but Dean waves him off.  “Let’s just get this homework shit started, alright?  Enough me talk.”

“Very well.”  Castiel concedes, gathering his textbook and notepad on his lap. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel can see Dean moving to lie down on his side, draped almost seductively over the pillows.  In an effort to keep from looking at him, Castiel dives into the book and begins to list off the things they need to do.

Castiel also can’t help but notice that Dean’s not really contributing; he’s just staring away at Castiel. 

Several minutes of this go by before Dean says, then subsequently does, something Castiel was _not_ expecting. 

“You know, Cas,” Dean murmurs as he sits up, sidling up close.  “You got a really sexy neck.”

Before the sentence even registers, Dean’s lips are on him, placed warm and wet right on the side of his neck.  There’s a distinct sucking noise, then they’re gone, leaving a slightly moist patch cooling on his skin. 

Castiel thinks he may have blacked out for a second.  

He slowly turns his head and Dean is right there.  His lips are still pursed, corners turned up just a little. 

Castiel feels heat everywhere.  His heart is thudding, and he’s holding on to the edges of his textbook for dear life.  He’s at a total loss, his mind void of everything except for _Dean_.  Smoke, lips, eyes, green, brown, freckles, sweet, friendly, kiss, _Dean._

That’s when he moves.  He flings his glasses off and they fly across the bed.  Then in the next second he doesn’t so much kiss as press his face into Dean’s, his lips not doing anything until Dean’s start to slowly move. 

A hand cups his face, and a thumb strokes his cheekbone.  They kiss and kiss, one short connection of lips after the other.  Castiel’s eyes remain open probably way past the point they’re supposed to, but he finally closes them, along with the book which he slams shut and tosses to the side. 

Suddenly, his hands are on Dean.  Holding his face, his neck, touching his chest, arms, back, he can’t even tell exactly.  He just registers warm, solid, wonderful and knows he wants it near him. 

Dean reads his mind, pushing into him closer, sliding a tongue across Castiel’s lips at the same time.  Castiel gasps, the burst of excitement in his sternum coming as a shock.  Finally, he opens his mouth to let Dean’s tongue in, then dares to move his own along with it.

Lips still connected to Dean’s, he feels his head turn to face forward and feels a body settle on top of him.  Castiel hums unexpectedly, and it makes his cheeks heat up, but then Dean moans in kind, sending that heat traveling elsewhere.

Castiel has no idea how this is happening, but he has not the mental capacity at the moment to try and figure it out.  All he knows is that Dean is straddling him, and kissing him so thoroughly he can barely breathe. 

In fact, he can tell he’s panting, and so is Dean. 

Dean hands run up and down Castiel’s heaving chest, and Castiel clutches at Dean’s back, clawing at his shirt.  They don’t part mouths for even a moment for air, and Castiel’s chest is _burning_.  It’s scalding hot, even more intense then when he’s running laps.  It’s getting even hotter in the area between his legs where Dean is sat, rubbing subtly up against him.

Another moan escapes them both, but it’s cut off by a distant bang.

They both part, gasping for air like they’ve been drowning.

“What was that?”  Dean breathes.

“Just my parents coming home.”

“Oh.”  Dean nods, and he looks instantly disappointed.  “Should we stop?”

Castiel looks at him like he’s lost his mind.  “No.”

Forcefully, Castiel pulls Dean by the neck back onto his lips and they continue right where they left off. 

Dean’s little thrusts start to get more serious and it feels so intensely good that Castiel has to break away from his lips to let out these absolutely obscene noises that he’s never heard himself make before.  Castiel’s watched porn before, not a lot, but still, he knows that the two of them sound like they’re in one right now.  The fact that he can’t resist making such noises is almost scary.

All they’re doing is kissing, granted it’s not perfectly innocent kissing, but the two are still fully clothed, and Castiel already feels like he’s losing his mind.  He can’t even fathom what it would be like to go further.

Of course, as soon as the thought passes through his brain, Dean somehow reads it.  He leaves Castiel’s lips to kiss across his cheek and down his neck, then sort of tucks his face into the collar of Castiel’s shirt and kisses the skin there.  He kisses every available area, and Castiel is left gasping for air.

“You ever had a blow job, angel?”

“What?” Castiel chokes out.  There were too many things that stood out in that sentence for Castiel to sort through.

Dean kisses the first closed button of his shirt then looks up at Castiel.  He doesn’t repeat the question.

“No.” 

With that, Dean continues.  He kisses down each button of his shirt, each peck like a cigarette burn on Castiel’s body.  He slides down until he’s atop of Castiel’s shins and his face is at his crotch.  He buries his head between Castiel’s legs and rubs his cheek along those quaking inner thighs, humming when he finds his clothed erection. 

“Ohh!”  Castiel nearly screams, cutting himself off by clapping his hand over his mouth.

Humming, Dean runs his lips up and down Castiel’s length, licking and breathing hot on the black cloth of his slacks.  Castiel’s just gasping away, trying to watch Dean but his head keeps throwing back on to the pillows.  There are hands grasping and stroking his thighs, a pair of lips and a thumb tracing up and down his cock and Castiel thinks he’s reaching the end of his life. 

Before Castiel gets the chance to meet his maker, he feels hands tugging on his belt.  “This okay, Cas?  If you don’t want me to just say so.”  Dean looks up at him, eyes wide, green irises nearly blacked out. 

Castiel stares blankly, the words just not coming to him.  Dean licks his lips. 

“Fuck,” Castiel growls and he sees Dean’s jaw drop through half lidded eyes.  “Yes, Dean.”

Immediately Dean pulls at Castiel’s belt and unbuckles it, then unzips his fly and lowers his pants.  He leans down to let his lips take one more pass across Castiel’s bulge, making him shudder.

Propped up on his elbows, Castiel stares down at Dean.  It’s like he’s watching a dream; everything looks hazy and he’s so dizzy with the heat of arousal that it just seems unreal.  Dean being here and doing this is unreal.  He pants and watches Dean, watches as his boxers are gingerly lowered down past his cock. 

Dean licks his lips again, then looks up at Castiel, giving him a smile before swallowing him whole. 

Castiel gasps and curls his fingers into the bed, pulling on the comforter.  It’s suction, and heat, and wet, and it’s all Dean doing it.  He bites his lip and his head goes flying back onto the pillows as Dean sucks him all the way in and out. 

His legs squirm and fists clench in the blanket as Dean’s head bobs up and down.  He’s getting sucked furiously and Castiel has no idea how he hasn’t already exploded. 

The only two words he’s able to manage are “fuck” and “Dean”, but anytime he breathes either Dean gives him an appreciative rumbling hum on his dick so he thinks maybe his currently stunted vocabulary is working out for the better. 

However, it’s not too much longer before the heat vibrating in his groin gets too intense for him to speak.  Dean’s lips leave his cock for only a second for him to look at Castiel with a grin, then twirl his tongue around the head.  Castiel’s whole body trembles as Dean goes back in for one last long, slow suck and Castiel’s orgasm blasts out of him, rocketing him into orbit.

He shouts, his world flashing white as he comes, pleasure electro-shocking down his spine to the tips of his toes.  Still feeling that wet heat of Dean’s mouth around him, he lands back on Earth as the last of his release leaves him.  When he’s spent, and Castiel can breathe again, he hears the slick sound of Dean pulling off.  The sound is so erotic that his dick gives a miraculous twitch at it, despite Castiel feeling like he just crash-landed. 

They’re both panting, Castiel still recovering, and Dean sitting between his legs, his own tucked under him.  Dean’s hands lightly stroke his bare legs for a minute before he gingerly pulls his pants back up for him. 

“You good, baby?”  Dean purrs, rubbing one of Castiel’s limp arms. “Didn’t kill you did I?”

“I believe you almost did.”

Dean laughs then, and something about it sounds so sweet and humble that it makes Castiel smile.  He sits up automatically, exhaustion be damned, scoots right in front of Dean and grabs him by the neck for a long, thorough kiss.  He can taste himself in Dean’s mouth, and it’s strange, but stranger still is how much he finds he loves it.

After a couple of minutes, Dean pulls away.  “Cas, you mind if I jerk off?  I’m hard as fuck, and, God, every time you cursed I thought I was gonna come in my pants.”  He looks so shy as he says it, almost giggling as he leans his forehead against Castiel’s.  Castiel feels himself melt.

“May I?”  Castiel asks boldly, lightly tracing his hand over the bulge in Dean’s jeans. 

Dean groans at the touch, but he brushes Castiel’s hand away and starts to undo his fly.  “Nah, you don’t have to.  I’ll take care of it.  Trust me it won’t take long.”

Castiel tilts his head, wondering why it seems to be such a trial to get Dean to accept anything for himself.  “It’s by far not a burden, Dean.  I want to.  Really.”

“Ah,” Dean nods, quirk of a smile on his face before he hisses as he pulls his cock out.  “Yeah, okay.” 

Castiel eyes Dean’s erection, contemplating sucking it for a moment, but thinking better of it as he’s never done it before.  He wouldn’t want to do a bad job, especially when it seems like Dean really needs to come quickly.  He decides he should probably leave that for another time.  He smiles and bites his lip as he realizes what an optimistic thought that was.  He hopes there _is_ another time.  There has to be.

Before his thoughts travel further, he takes hold of Dean’s cock, giving it a few tentative strokes.  Dean instantly hums and bucks his hips just a little.  Feeling encouraged, Castiel tightens his grip and quickens his pace.  It’s not long at all before Dean is gasping out his own litany of curse words then coming in Castiel’s hand, head collapsing on his shoulder. 

“Jesus Christ,” Dean breathes, hot puffs of air warming Castiel’s neck.

“No, I’m Castiel.”  Castiel deadpans, and Dean laughs so hard he nearly falls off the bed. 

After their laughter dies down, they hear a female voice from downstairs holler, “Dinner!”

That’s when Cas lights Dean’s heart on fire. 

It starts with that look- That look that’s _so_ fucking Mr. Novak it makes Dean’s everything ache.  It’s that sort of sad, hopeful, shy, lonely, look that he hasn’t seen this Cas wear just yet.  The fact that his hair is a total mess only adds to the reminiscent imagery.

He looks up at Dean, eyes big, full on kicked-puppy expression when he asks, “Dean, will you be my boyfriend?”

Heat burns through his chest as the words echo inside him.  He knows his response is way too delayed, that he’s just staring blankly and the longer he does it, the more he’s kicking the already kicked puppy even harder. 

“I’d like to introduce you to my parents, and I’d like for you to stay for dinner, and…if you’d be my boyfriend, that would be,”  Castiel’s eyes lower and such a huge weight in Dean’s chest gets pulled down with them as he takes both of Dean’s hands in his, tenderly stroking them with his thumbs.  “Well, I would be very happy.”

Fuck, as if Dean could possibly say no now.  He’s pretty sure he wasn’t going to anyway, but now he physically can’t.  There are so many reasons why this is a bad idea, but, to hell with it.  Dean would fucking _love_ to be Castiel’s boyfriend.

“Cas, I would fucking love to be your boyfriend.”

Castiel perks up at that with such fervor it makes the bed bounce.  He smiles so big, and it’s so cute and dimply that Dean’s heart bursts.

“Really?  Great!”  He practically leaps off the bed, pulling a stumbling Dean with him.  “Let’s go tell my parents while they’re still in the kitchen.” 

Castiel starts to drag them to the door, but Dean stops him.  “Whoa, whoa, Cas, uh,”

“What is it?”

“We’re kind of, uh,” Dean gestures towards his undone pants and Cas’ filthy shirt. “Don’t you think we should clean up a bit first?”

“Oh!”  Castiel jumps, releasing Dean’s hand to tug at his wet, wrinkly shirt.  “You’re right.  Of course.  Let’s do that.”

They go into the bathroom to clean up and change shirts.  Castiel gives Dean a grey undershirt of his, and he changes into this light blue button down that looks so fucking pretty with his eyes Dean literally looks at him and sighs.  Castiel gives him one of those trademark curious looks, all scrunched eyebrows, tilting head, frowny mouth, and Dean just laughs, laying a big kiss on him. 

Dean then finds Cas' glasses for him, sliding them on and lining them up straight.  His fingers trace down along Cas' jaw, and it's too fucking uncanny how much of Mr. Novak Dean can see in him right now. It's all the best parts; the crazy hair, the sweet, shy smile, and those piercing blues.  Dean feels heat rush his heart like a freight train.  He musses Cas' hair then turns away with a laugh.

Once they’re satisfactorily tidied up, they walk down what seems like the all-time longest hallway and an even longer staircase hand in hand.  In the distance, Dean can see the folks who must be Cas’ parents sitting at a huge kitchen table. 

When they enter the kitchen, which is massive, Dean’s eyes fall on Cas’ dad first.  He resembles Mr. Novak in a way:  ugly ass suit, unkempt hair, scruffy beard.  He’s more on the scrawny side though, whereas Cas has a pretty killer bod. 

His mom seems nice enough.  Cheerful looking blonde who’s skipping over to the table with a plate of food for she and her husband. 

Neither one of them even glance at Castiel and Dean though.  Dean rolls his eyes at that. 

“Mother, Father.” Cas announces their presence commandingly, making his parents do a double take.  They both just eyeball him, eyebrows raised and expectant.  So he continues.  “I’m gay, and this is my boyfriend Dean Winchester.”

This time Dean does the double take.  Castiel grasps tightly at Dean’s hand and keeps his eyes on his parents with a firm, serious expression. 

“Um, oh, o-okay,” Cas’ dad says in a timid, mousy voice.  He doesn’t look pissed or anything, just surprised.  Same goes for Cas’ mom.  His dad stands up, flattening his jacket down in a gesture that reminds Dean yet again of Mr. Novak, and Cas’ mom moves to stand beside him. 

The four of them look like they’re squaring off, but nobody looks angry, really.  Cas’ parents are just nodding apprehensively, Cas looks dead serious, and Dean…has no idea what his face is doing.  He’s hoping he’s looking confident though. 

But this is fucking _awkward._

If this is how Cas wants to do it though, Dean’ll sure support him.  He squeezes Cas’ hand.

Finally, Cas’ dad extends his hand.  “Well, it’s, uh, nice to meet you Dean.  I’m Chuck, this is my wife Becky.” 

“Nice to meet you too, sir, ma’am.”  Dean says, shaking both their hands.

“So, Cas,” Chuck starts, crossing his arms, “How long have you known?  About, uh,”

“I don’t know.  Always.  I just didn’t see a reason to tell you until now.”  Castiel glances at Dean, a small smile on his face. 

“Oh, okay, I see.  Well, thanks for-“

“Oh!” Chuck is cut off by his wife squealing like she’s about to cry as she hurdles toward Cas, taking him in her arms.  He grunts, taken aback by the hug, and surely by how hard she’s squeezing him.  “I’m so glad you told us, Castiel! Thank you so much!  And, Dean!”  She squeaks before moving to hug him too, “It’s so good to meet you.”

She backs away and wipes her eyes, then clings to her husband’s arm.  “You’re both so handsome!”  She says, definitely crying now.  Cas looks from her to Dean, utterly confused as to why, but Dean might have some idea. 

This is a big moment, and if Dean is reading the situation right, they don’t really get a whole lot of information out of Cas about his life.  They must be shocked that he’s shared this with them so unabashedly.  Dean’s pretty pleased with their reaction, but he doesn’t excuse them for ignoring Cas.

After that, they all sit down to the table to eat, Dean sharing a few things about himself, but the focus mainly being placed on Castiel.  Dean’s really glad to see that.  It’s even better seeing Cas look so happy and self-assured. 

Later, Cas walks Dean out to the car, hand in hand.   

“Helluva day, huh?”  Dean jokes, leaning against the car with his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Yes,” Castiel chuckles, “Dean, I realize now I should’ve run it by you first before I put you in that situation with my parents.  It must have been- _awkward_.  I apologize.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Dean says, pulling Cas in by the arm.  “Glad I could be there for you.”

Castiel heaves out a sigh, then slumps into Dean, like he’s been exerting so much energy trying to be firm and confident, that now he’s relieved to finally be able let it go and relax.  Dean hugs him, soothingly rubbing his back.  He remembers doing this for Mr. Novak that night in the back of the Impala, which makes him grin as he buries his head in the crook of Cas’ neck.

He almost laughs thinking about how he should find this whole thing much weirder than he actually does.  It’s so ass-backwards and upside-down and just downright _weird_ in so many ways, but Dean isn’t the least bit bothered.  Really, his whole fucking life is insane; this little adventure is like a nice vacation.  An awesome one, actually.

“What motel are you staying in?”  Castiel mumbles onto Dean’s shoulder. 

Dean freezes at that, a shot of guilt striking through him.  He’s not actually staying at the motel; he can’t afford it.  He slept in the Impala last night, then showered at the school. 

It’s not like Cas is gonna come stay with him; he thinks Dean’s basically staying in one room with his Dad and brother, which is an idea that he seemed pretty uncomfortable with, understandably.  So, it should be fine to tell Cas the name of the motel, but…he doesn’t want to lie to him. 

“Dean?”  Castiel says, turning his head to face his neck.  “Did you hear me?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean sighs, lifting his head up.  Castiel lifts his too, looking at Dean concerned.  Dean looks away and swallows down the tightness in his throat.  Then he lies.  “It’s the Motel 8 off the highway.”

Castiel nods, concern unabated.  He cups Dean’s chin and turns his head toward him, then places a soft kiss to his lips.  Somehow, Cas just seems to know not to ask anything more. 

They kiss for a few more minutes, holding each other.  When they part, they whisper goodnights and Castiel slowly walks up to his front door.  Dean watches him the whole way even after he stops in the doorway to wave and then shut it.  Dean stays leaning on the car for a bit, lost in the amalgam of thoughts he has to sort through, then stands up, lights a cigarette and drives.

After a long nap in the Impala, Dean heads inside the school.  He goes straight for the gym locker room, EMF in hand.  The room doesn’t feel cold, and it doesn’t look any messier than usual.  The meter isn’t giving off any sign of activity, and Dean hasn’t found any ectoplasm around. 

“Good, no ghost jizz.  Guess you’re not a total pervert.”  Dean talks to the ghost anyway, whether he’s around or not.  “Though, I gotta admit, if I were invisible I’d probably spend a lot of time in locker rooms too.” 

There’s no response, as usual, so Dean sighs and pockets his EMF.  He takes his jacket off, setting it next to the duffel he put on the bench, then pulls out his toiletries bag and goes to take a shower.  He talks to the ghost all the while.

“Cas is my boyfriend now, by the way.  Hope you’re not too jealous.  You know, he didn’t ask me out ‘til after I gave him head?”  Dean laughs, “Which, honestly, I can totally respect.

“Haven’t had a boyfriend, girlfriend, anything-friend in,” Dean stops, his hand on the water tap which he turns off with a squeak.  “Ever.”  He whispers it, speaking more to himself than the ghost now.

Dean realizes then that he’s a bit more like Cas than he thought.  He’s been _with_ people before, physically, but never emotionally.  Not like he is with Cas.  It’s never been significant like it is with Cas.

A swooping feeling of anxiety overtakes him as he stands frozen in the shower, the sound of dripping water echoing through the room and through his mind.  He’s falling for Cas.  He barely knows the guy and he’s falling for him.  He wants to help him, and he’s failing at it.

This fucking ghost is playing with him.  Probably just wants to watch he and Cas get close before ripping them apart again just for its own amusement.  Ghosts aren’t friendly; Casper’s just a little bitch cartoon character.  Real life ghosts are vengeful dicks. 

He _has_ to find out the name of this lost soul.  Once he does, he can threaten the thing to either show itself, zap him back to 2013, or its bones are ash. 

And he has to do it fast, before he falls completely.


	8. Proving Climate Change

Usually, Castiel is the first one to arrive to class every morning.  Today, he’s second. 

The first student in class today is Dean.

This is surprising for many reasons.  One being that Dean has been the last to get to school these past couple of days, two, is that Castiel didn’t see Dean’s car in the mostly empty parking lot when he got there, and three, because Dean is asleep at the desk. 

Quietly, Castiel slinks into his desk and peers at Dean.  He’s sleeping very hard, even snoring.  Castiel leans towards Dean’s desk and lightly places a palm on his shoulder, gently shaking it. 

“Dean?”

Dean mumbles something unintelligible, but doesn’t wake, so Castiel shakes him a little bit harder. 

“Dean.  Wake up.”

“Wha-Mr. Nova-“ Dean wakes with a jolt, hand rubbing across his face as his eyes blink, adjusting to the light.  He rapidly shakes his head, looks around confused for a second, then turns to the hand on his shoulder.  Finally, he notices Castiel.  “Oh, hey Cas.” 

Castiel eyes him, noticing the creases on his face from where his face was buried in his jacket.  Dean stretches in the desk with a loud groan, pressing a palm into his back.  Then, he stretches out his legs, arms, and neck. 

After giving his face one last rub down, he grins sleepily at Cas.  “I’d kiss ya, but I’m pretty sure I got morning breath.”

The pieces fall into place and Castiel’ eyes go wide with shock.  “Did you sleep here last night?”

Dean’s expression mimics Castiel’s, as if he’s surprised Castiel could tell even though it’s so obvious.  “ _No_ , I-I just,”

“Why?  Why did you sleep here?”

“I didn’t sleep here! I needed a shower so, I got here –very early.”

“There’s no shower at the motel?”

“I’m not-“ Dean lowers his voice as students start to trickle in to the classroom.  “I’m not staying at the motel.”  

Perplexed further, Castiel tilts his head, frustration starting to rise with his heartbeat.  “Where _are_ you staying?”

Dean heaves a sigh, rubbing at his temples.  Castiel feels himself getting even more frustrated seeing Dean get frustrated.  He needs an explanation for this; it doesn’t make any sense.  Why is Dean such an unsolvable query of a man?

“I’m sleeping in my car, okay?” Dean barks under his breath. 

Castiel growls back, leaning closer.  “That is unacceptable.”

“Well, accept it, baby.  We don’t all get to live in fucking castles.”

Castiel actually gasps at that.  This is the first time Dean’s actually been outright rude to him.  It’s distressing, disappointing, _maddening._   Castiel had been so excited to see him today, on their first day of being officially together as boyfriends, and they’re starting off the day bickering.  He glares. 

Dean glares back, quirking an annoyingly defiant eyebrow at him. 

“Whoa, boys, ain’t it a little early for a domestic dispute?”  They both turn toward Benny, who’s looking over at them, amused.  Neither respond to him, they just turn to face forward in their desks.  Benny watches, shrugging with a huff before he sits down. 

When their teacher comes in, she immediately begins their lesson for the day, but Castiel isn’t paying her any attention.  He’s just staring out at nothing, mind awash with too many angry thoughts, his fists clenched on his lap. 

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Dean, just sitting there, arms crossed.  The most vexing thing of all is that even when Castiel’s not looking directly at him, he can see how beautiful he is.  He’s beautiful even after a night of terrible sleep in a car and at a desk.  Castiel’s angry, but the worst thing about it is that he wanted, _wants_ , nothing more than to lean over and kiss the boy silly.

He sighs, looking down at the fists in his lap.  He realizes that one is holding a pencil. 

He twiddles the pencil in his fingers for a moment, then reaches over and places it atop of Dean’s desk.

Dean’s lips quirk up just a tiny bit, as he takes the pencil and places it behind his ear. 

Castiel relaxes, a small smile playing on his own lips as his focus turns to his teacher. 

In the last few minutes before the bells rings, Dean breaks the silence between them, as if nothing really happened.  “Hey, Cas, I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick, but I’ll meet you at our locker.  Or, in class if I take too long.  Cool?”

Castiel nods, a rush of warmth flooding him.  He’s glad that Dean doesn’t seem to be angry anymore.  “Okay.”

On the way to his locker, Castiel passes by Benny’s girlfriend, Andrea.  She gives him a bright smile and friendly wave.  “Hi Castiel!” 

Castiel can feel how shocked he looks, but he manages a wave.  His hand is frozen in place for a minute, as he stands in slight bewilderment while she walks past.  He smiles to himself, then continues onward.  That was certainly new. 

After putting his books in his locker, he pauses before taking out the next one he needs.  He stares, lost in thought for a moment before he feels two arms scoop him up. 

Fingers slide through his hair as Dean pulls him forward into a kiss.  He’s pulled in close, flush against Dean, an arm around his waist and another cupping the back of his head.  Finally, his own arms move to wrap around Dean, Castiel smiling into the kiss as he tastes mint on Dean’s breath. 

Their mouths move together fluidly, one warm connection of lips after the other.  Dean slips his tongue in and Castiel finds himself opening up to him automatically, his own tongue twirling around Dean’s.  They press together even harder, heads slanting to kiss deeper. 

Castiel’s heart is going crazy.  His chest and face are burning, but it’s not the public display that has him blushing, it’s just Dean.  It’s because _Dean_ is kissing him and wants to kiss him.  Dean who is so charming and sweet, yet dark and mysterious though he seems completely harmless.  Dean is this leather clad smoker who sleeps in this monster of a car, but Castiel’s never felt frightened of him.  He feels safe with him, warm and protected.  And he wants to keep Dean warm and protected too. 

Suddenly, their make out session is ended by a slap to the back of Dean’s head. 

“Ah!”  Dean shouts, pulling away from the kiss to rub at his injury. 

“Glad to see you boys are gettin’ along again.”  Benny teases with a wink as he walks by. 

The bell rings before Dean can retort, so he just rolls his eyes and laughs, turning back to Castiel.  “Shall we?”

Castiel grins and nods, or at least tries to.  He’s too drunk on Dean to be able to tell if he’s doing it right. 

Later, when they sit down to lunch, Dean watches Castiel unpack the lunch he brought from home.  He pulls out two sandwiches, two bags of chips, two sodas, and two brownies, then divides each pair in half and scoots one half to Dean. 

Dean looks down at the food items in front of him and sighs, feeling his gut twist with guilt.

“Cas,” Dean says, defeated. 

“What?” 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.”  Castiel replies before biting into his sandwich.  Dean digs in and pointedly misses the satisfied look he’s sure Cas is wearing. 

Not that he doesn’t deserve to be a bit smug.  Dean was being a cranky bitch this morning and Castiel was only trying to look out for him.  Dean feels ashamed for harboring any jealousy at all for Cas’ silver spoon upbringing.  He knows full well that money and luxury don’t equate happiness.  He _knows_ Cas isn’t happy in his home life. 

The fact that he never would have guessed that Cas came from a rich family makes him feel even worse about it.  Cas is generous and kind, nothing even close to the stereotypical rich asshole, and yet here Dean is barking at him for simply being born into a nice life.  It’s no more his fault than it is Dean’s for being born into a crappy one. 

After being far too deep in thought while chowing down on lunch, he finally turns to speak lowly to Cas.  He wipes the chip crumbs off his hands and clears his throat.  “Hey, Cas, I’m sorry about this morning.  I was being a dick.”

“It’s alright, Dean, but…” Cas turns to him, face stricken with worry, “Why aren’t you staying at the motel with your father and brother?”

“They’re uh,” Dean struggles to find an answer.  Lying to Cas hurts so much, every time. “They’re not here yet.  I got to town ahead of them.”  It’s as close to the truth as Dean can get without getting slapped and called crazy.  Doesn’t suck any less though.

“I wish I could offer more of an explanation, but I just – I don’t know how much I should tell you.”  He looks down at the empty food bags in front of him, feeling completely ashamed.  Timidly, he looks back to Cas to see him giving that curious-concerned-puppy look he’s always wearing.  “I’m sorry.”  Dean finally whispers.       

“Dean, it’s okay.  I told you, you don’t have to share anything with me that you don’t wish to.  I’m not angry.  Worried, but not angry.  I just want you to be safe.” 

As soon as Cas’ words leave him, Dean feels his heart pound and he lunges forward to plaster his lips to Cas’.  Dean has him pulled in by the neck, and he feels Cas mirror him, placing a warm hand around Dean’s own neck. 

“Aw, couple of the year!”  They hear a peppy voice say, followed by a clicking sound. 

They pull apart with a start, and see a smiling red-headed girl holding up a camera to them.  “Smile for the yearbook?”

“Oh, God no.”  Dean grumbles. 

“Okay, fine, but I’m using the kissing picture.”  She walks over to their side of the lunch table and sits perched on the edge.  She pulls out a notepad and pen.  “What are your names?”

Dean pulls a face, thinking it won’t be fucked up at _all_ to have a picture of some guy from ten years in the future in their yearbook.  He doesn’t get the chance to protest before Cas is, of course, politely introducing them. 

“This is Dean Winchester, and my name is Castiel Novak.” 

She freezes mid pen-stroke when Cas says his name, then gives them both a look of exaggerated terror.  “Novak?  Like the ghost?  Spooky.”

“Wait, hold on, what ghost?  What do you mean?”  Dean presses. 

“Yeah, you know, the ghost that haunts the school.  Jimmy Novak.”

Dean feels everything inside him leap.  _He has a name._  

“My name’s Charlie, by the way.  Castiel, right?  Aren’t you in my BCIS class?  Or, as I like to call it: let’s-alt-tab-between-Microsoft-Word-and-Warcraft-for-90-minutes class.” 

She babbles on, but Dean’s not paying attention.  His mind is whirring.  He has a name; he can look this Jimmy Novak up.  He can find where he’s buried.  He can finally get this fucker.  He can save Cas.

He can’t believe that after all his investigating the information he needs just fell right into his lap.

Suddenly, he realizes he hasn’t heard Cas speak for a minute.  He looks to him and sees that he’s gone completely pale. 

“Cas?”  Dean reaches out to him, but before his hand can get to his shoulder, a loud creak rolls across the ceiling and the lights flicker. 

He feels the temperature drop drastically and sees puffs of smoke escaping everyone’s mouths as they breathe.  The whole room starts to rumble; it sounds like thunder, but it’s not storming out, and the sound is definitely inside the building. 

The floor quakes beneath them, and the tables vibrate, food trays rattling and drinks falling over.  It gets louder and louder, everyone’s covering their ears, some are screaming.  Andrea’s face is buried in Benny’s chest, and he’s hugging her close. 

Dean instinctively reaches in his pockets even though he has nothing on him to defend them aside from a small pouch of rock salt. 

The noise just keeps getting louder, the shaking keeps getting more violent.  Everyone is hunched over, covering their ears.  Everyone except for Cas.  He’s frozen still, eyes wide with panic.  Dean reaches out again to hold him, but as soon as he does, there’s a deafening boom and the lights blink out. 

Then everything goes silent. 

The lights buzz back on. 

Everyone starts to slowly uncover their ears, every face filled with terror. 

The first thing Dean sees is Castiel passed out on the floor.

“Cas?  Cas?!”  Dean’s voice echoes in the silent cafeteria, but he doesn’t notice.  Cas is unconscious, and there’s streaks of blood coming out of his ears. 

He gathers Cas in his arms and shakes him.  He’s deathly cold and pale. 

“Oh my God, is he okay?”  Charlie crouches down beside them, grabbing Cas’ glasses from off the floor then placing a hand around his arm.  “He’s freezing!”

“I know,” Dean murmurs, his voice shaking.  He realizes he’s shaking too.

“Come on, we gotta get him to the nurse.”  Charlie grasps Dean’s shoulders and lifts him up.  Dean scoops Cas up into his arms to carry him as they run off to the nurse’s office. 

The cafeteria behind them remains dead quiet.

When Castiel awakes, he’s on a couch, his head resting in Dean’s lap.  There’s a warm, wet cloth on his forehead, and there are fingers running soothingly through his hair.  That familiar smoky, leather smell fills him and it nearly lulls him back to sleep, but instead, he looks up at Dean.  It’s much more comforting to see his face than to see more nightmares.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean looks down at him with a slight jump.  “Cas!  You’re up!  How ya feelin’?”

“I feel okay, aside from a headache.” 

“Yeah?  The nurse left some painkillers and a bottle of water for you.”  Castiel’s eyes try to follow Dean’s hand as he reaches to the side table, but it hurts too much to look up that far.  He winces, then closes his eyes until he hears Dean’s voice again.  “Here.”

Castiel lifts his head up just enough to down the pills with a few swigs of water, then he’s back to Dean’s lap. 

The nurse comes in shortly after and asks Castiel how he’s feeling.  She says when he’s ready to get up he can go home for the day.  She also tells him she’s called his parents and they’re both on the way to get him now.

This information surprises Castiel into sitting up, even though it makes his brain thud in his skull.  “They are?”

“Yes, they should be here any minute.”

Castiel looks at his lap, stunned.  His parents actually left work to tend to him. 

Any other time Castiel has been sick, he’s just stayed home and taken care of himself.  The school would call his parents in his absence, they’d excuse him and that’d be that.

“Can Dean come with me?”  He looks up as he asks without really thinking about it.

The nurse chuckles fondly.  “I don’t think I can excuse him for any longer than I have.  You’ve been out for about an hour now.”

“Yeah, thanks for gettin’ me outta History, Cas.”  Dean winks.

Castiel looks back at him, worried.  He knows he should go home and rest, and he’s glad to get away from here, but he doesn’t want to go without Dean.  He knows he’ll have more nightmares, like the last time that thing was around.  If Dean were with him he wouldn’t be as scared. 

And also…what if whatever that thing was comes back and hurts Dean? 

Clearly, Dean can read everything on his expression.  He wraps an arm around Castiel’s shoulders and squeezes.  “Don’t worry, sweetheart.  I’ll come right over after school, okay?” 

Castiel nods, and right then, his parents walk in.  His mother barrels in the room for him, lifting him up of the couch and asking over and over if he’s okay.  They’re both doting on him, and Castiel has no idea what to do with it.  It’s never happened before.

They thank Dean for looking out for him, but Dean just shrugs like it’s no big thing, even though it’s plain to see how filled with relief he is upon seeing Castiel up and moving.  Castiel feels lightheaded and hot under all the attention. 

Dean accompanies Castiel and his parents to their car, holding Castiel’s hand the whole way.  When they get to the car, Castiel still feels a bit dizzy, even though his headache is gone.  After the whole ordeal he feels oddly happy. 

After opening up the car door for Castiel, Dean respectfully says goodbye to Castiel’s parents.  His mother hugs him and his father pats him on the back. 

“I’ll see you in a little while, Cas.”  Dean looks at him lovingly, stroking a knuckle down his jaw then squeezing his shoulder. 

Castiel practically falls onto his lips then, pressing into Dean’s firmly before pulling away and whispering goodbye.  Dean looks at him, a shocked half-smile on his face.  Castiel can feel the goofy grin he’s giving him in return, but he can’t help it.

It’s so strange that he could find so much happiness through such a horrid ordeal. 

Upon arriving home, Castiel goes straight to his room, gets undressed, then curls up under the covers.  His parents tell him they’re staying home the rest of the day to look after him. 

Castiel falls asleep with a smile on his face. 

As soon as the last bell rings, Dean practically sprints out of the classroom.  He heads to the field to make sure Cas’ track coach knows what’s up, then he goes to the back of the school where he parked last night, and takes off.

Once he arrives at Cas’ house, he hops out of the car and jogs up to the door and rings the bell.  For a second he thinks he’s at the wrong house, because Dean doesn’t recognize the guy that answers.  He’s a short dude with longish blonde hair.  He gives Dean a judgmental look as he leans on the doorframe and pulls the lollipop he’s been sucking on out of his mouth.

“You Dean?”

“That’s right.”

The guy’s tongue runs over his teeth as he nods.  “Heard about what happened today.  That’s some freaky shit.”

“Yeah.  Outer Limits level freaky shit.”  Dean quips, making the guy huff a small laugh.

“I’m Gabriel.”  He sticks the lollipop back in his mouth and extends his hand, so Dean shakes it with a nod.  “Thanks for lookin’ out for my baby bro.”

Dean smiles, finally understanding what’s going on.  “My pleasure.”

Gabriel huffs again as he scoots out of the way to let Dean in.  “I’ll bet.”

Dean just wiggles his eyebrows at him before jogging up the stairs and down the hall to Cas’ room.  He quietly opens the door and steps in.

Cas is fast asleep, cocooned by the fluffy comforter, soft little snores escaping him.  Dean creeps towards the bed, setting the notebook he’s been carrying down on it, then taking his jacket and outer shirt off, then his boots.  He walks over to the other side of the bed, then softly sits down on it next to Cas. 

Looking over at Cas, he’s glad to see his face looking peaceful.  He hopes that means he’s resting well.  His mind travels to the incident in the cafeteria. 

The whole thing started right after Charlie revealed the name of the ghost.  Actually, it wasn’t right after.  It was a few minutes later.  Dean can’t recall how long because he was so deep in thought about how he was finally going to get the thing.

That’s when a pretty frightening thought clenches at him.  Could the ghost have read his mind?  He’s certainly powerful, what with the time traveling and the earthquakes, so it might be possible.  Dean’s tangled with some tough spirits, but he’s never quite come across something like this. 

It just keeps getting more and more personal.  Dean just wishes he could talk to the fuckin’ thing.  Maybe he can get it, _him_ , to pass-on on his own, without burning his bones. 

That doesn’t seem likely though, because even though he didn’t manifest and hurt Cas, he still attacked him.  In fact, it was worse that way then if it had just shown itself.  At least that way Dean could’ve defended Cas. 

Jimmy Novak.  What the fuck is your deal?

He feels Cas stir beside him, breaking him out of his thoughts.  He smiles at him, watching him groan and stretch, sucking in a big breath. 

Finally, he opens his eyes.  “Dean.”

“Mornin’, angel.”  He reaches to card his fingers through Cas’ hair, then cup his cheek.  “How are you?”

“You did it again.”

“Huh?”

“Called me ‘angel’.  You did it yesterday too.”

“Oh.  Uh,” Dean’s eyes dart around and he pulls his hand away to scratch the back of his head.  It feels so natural to call him that, he doesn’t even realize it when he’s doing it.

“You know I’m named after one.” Castiel smiles at him, taking Dean’s hand in his.  Cas is warm now, Dean’s happy to find out.

“Yeah-er-I mean, I just kinda guessed.”  Dean feels embarrassed about it and he has no idea why.  He certainly wasn’t when Mr. Novak called him out on it.  Back then he was proud to be right. 

The way Cas is looking at him now though, with that warm hand on him, it’s making his heart do flips in his chest. 

“You guessed right.”  Cas says, his sleepy smile getting wider.  “I’m glad you’re here.”  He pulls down the comforter and pats the bed, asking Dean to get in with him.  He does, of course.

They lie facing each other, Dean tucking an arm under a pillow and Cas lying halfway on his stomach. 

“Oh, I took notes for you in government.  And I asked our history teacher what we missed and he just gave us a chapter to read.  And your coach knows why you didn’t show up.”

“Thank you,” Castiel whispers, scooting in close to tuck his head underneath Dean’s.  “You’re the best.”

“Better than all the rest?”  Dean teases, wrapping an arm around him.

“Well, in truth I have none to compare you to,” Cas teases back, “But yes.”

Dean squeezes him, heaving a sigh.  Cas has no idea how much Dean actually knows about him. 

“Did you know you’re my first friend?”  Castiel mumbles into Dean’s shirt.

Dean swallows around the tightness in his throat.  He doesn’t want to lie, but he has to.  “No way.”

“It’s true.”  Cas says, looking up.  “I was homeschooled up until high school, so all I had in my life was family, and I’ve never been close with any of them.  I just…didn’t know how to make friends.  But it’s been so easy with you.”  His voice is barely above a whisper and even though he doesn’t sound emotional, it still makes Dean’s heart ache. 

“Why don’t you get along with your brothers and sisters?”

“They just don’t care about me.”  Cas reveals it like it’s nothing, but it makes Dean’s insides clench and twist.  “My sister Anna and I were somewhat close, and my brother Gabriel.”

“Yeah I just met him when I got here.  Doesn’t seem like a total asshole.”

“Oh, I didn’t know he was home.  Yes, he’s tolerable when he tries to be.  Anna and Gabriel were off to college before I got to high school, so I didn’t have them to socialize with there.”

“Don’t you got some younger siblings?”  Dean asks without thinking, forgetting that detail was one Mr. Novak revealed.

“Oh, yes.  Inias and Hester.  They go to our school, but neither really speak to me.”

Dean lets out an exasperated sigh.  “Why?  Cas, you’re so…why the fuck do they ignore you?”

“I let myself be ignored.”

Dean grumbles at that and buries his face in Cas’ hair. 

“I have a huge family, Dean.  We’re all adopted; we’re all very different.  I’ve just never done anything to stand out.” 

“You shouldn’t have to! You’re-dammit!”

Castiel wraps his arms around Dean and hugs.  “It’s okay, Dean, don’t be upset for me.  Actually,” He looks up to meet Dean’s eyes, “I think things are turning around.” 

Dean quirks a brow at him.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”  Castiel reaches up and kisses him, letting their lips stay locked for a while. 

Smiling into the kiss, Dean’s heart ache eases and is soothed with warmth.  He hopes to hell that’s true.  He hopes he’s helped Cas out at least a little. 

Cas pulls away just enough to speak. “Dean?”

“Hm?”

“May I take you out to dinner?  And then, will you spend the night here?”

“Nope.” 

“What?”  Cas’ eyes go wide and he pulls away, blinking at him in shock.

Dean smiles smugly.  “I’m taking _you_ out to dinner.”

Laughing, Castiel shakes his head.  “As you wish.  And…about staying over?”

“ _Fuck_ yeah.”


	9. Beating the Cold with a Stick

To Castiel’s delight, Dean is as much a fan of cheeseburgers as he is.

They’re at his favorite restaurant uptown in a small booth for couples.  Castiel tells Dean about how he used to come here with his entire family when he was very young.  They’d reserve several tables and order a huge platter of burgers and fries. 

“That sounds fucking awesome.”

“Yes, it was fun.”  Castiel reminisces while twirling a fry between his fingers.  “They would usually end in food fights between my brothers Lucifer and Michael though.  They’ve always butted heads.”

“Wait, you got a brother named _Lucifer?_ ”

“Yes.  Before you ask, he does live up to the name.  He’s in jail now.”

“Oh shit.”  Dean says, his amusement turned to concern. 

Castiel just shrugs.  Lucifer and he hardly ever spoke, and when they did it was usually for him to call Castiel weird, to which Dean says, “Well fuck him then.”  Then angrily stuffs a fry in his mouth. 

After Castiel’s story, Dean shares a bit about his life.  He tells Castiel that even though it seems like his life sucks, there are some advantages to moving around a lot.  Since they travel the country, Dean has gotten to try cheeseburgers from all over.  He says he has a top 10 list, and that Castiel’s favorite restaurant just might be a contender. 

There is so much that Castiel wants to ask about, but he refrains.  Dean seems so hesitant to divulge details about his family, but he’s so sincere all the time that Castiel knows there must be good reason for that. 

He would love to know exactly why Dean’s family travels so much, and why Dean is here without his family, and _why_ he doesn’t have enough money to have proper shelter.  Alas, he doesn’t ask.  He resolves to support Dean in any way he can, and in any way Dean will let him. 

“Hey, Cas?”

Castiel’s face softens, realizing he was just glaring at his French fry.  He sets it back on his plate then looks to Dean.  “Yes?”

“Can you tell me what happened back there?  In the cafeteria?  Can you remember?”

“Ah,” Castiel hesitates, his hands dropping to his lap and gaze lowering.  He doesn’t particularly want to relive that, but if he wants Dean to feel secure with being open to him, then Castiel must offer the same courtesy.  Besides, it would probably be good to share this with someone, he thinks.  He has been keeping this to himself for so long.  “Yes, I remember.  Truthfully, it’s not the first time something like that has happened.” 

Dean slides his plate aside then leans forward.  “Yeah?”

Nodding, Castiel continues.  “You felt how it got cold in the room, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, when the temperature drops like that at the school, I feel this – _presence_ that follows it _.”_   He looks up to see Dean studying him seriously, not looking at him at all like he’s as crazy as he feels.

“Yeah?  What do you feel?”

“It feels like…like I’m being squeezed tighter and tighter.  Like ice cold tentacles are wrapping around me and constricting me until I can’t breathe.  Usually, it lets go when I stop breathing, but yesterday,”  Castiel starts to feel cold just thinking about it.  He hugs himself, and looks down at his lap again.  “Yesterday it didn’t let go.”

“That’s why you passed out.”

Castiel heaves a quivering breath, the feeling of being held by that _thing_ coming back to him all too clearly.  He shuts his eyes to make it go away when he feels warm arms wrap around him.  Opening his eyes, he sees Dean snug on his side of the booth with him, hugging him.  He returns the embrace, burying his face in that brown leather jacket.  

“You must think me weak.” 

“No I don’t.”  Dean says, lifting Cas’ head to look into his eyes.  Those sincere, radiant green eyes that Castiel finds such comfort in.  “Not at all.  Do you know how insane a person would go after experiencing something like that even once?  That ghost has reached out and grabbed you, tried to _kill_ you, at least twice, and look at you.  You’re not letting it get the better of you.  You’re strong Cas.” 

Looking up at Dean, Castiel feels the words he wants to say immediately rise up and burn in his chest.  They vibrate inside him like they want to burst from him, but he can’t say them.  He can’t say them just yet. 

So instead, he kisses.  He kisses everything he feels onto Dean’s lips, and it almost seems like Dean is kissing those words right back to him. 

It feels desperate somehow, the way they’re clinging to each other as they kiss, huddled in this tiny space.  He can’t say the words, but he can feel them so much.  He feels _so_ much for Dean. 

Dean became his friend and now he has _friends._   Dean cared for him, and now it feels like his family cares for him too.  Castiel was so lonely, and now he has _Dean_ all the time whenever he needs to see him. 

He’s changed Castiel’s life so much in such a short time and he makes it seem like this effortless thing, like making Castiel happy is just second nature for him.  And Castiel is _so_ happy. 

He can hear how he’s gasping for air between each connection of lips, but he refuses to pull away.  He would gladly die kissing Dean.

The second the check is paid for, Dean slams some tip money on the table and grabs Castiel’s hand, yanking them out the door.  He runs, dragging Castiel along behind him, weaving through people like they’re being chased in a movie.

He hears Castiel behind him calling his name but he won’t stop, not until he’s sure that sad look is off his face.  Dean wants to take Castiel as far away from those cold memories as possible, he wants him to forget for the moment that anything bad has ever happened to him.

It’s impossible, Dean knows, because the laundry list of things that Dean wants to forget will never go away, but he’ll try his best for Cas. 

That look on Cas’ face, scared and lonely, that look Mr. Novak wore when he told Dean about his incident with the ghost, Dean never wanted to see it again and there it was.  Looking up at him with watery blue eyes, like a stormy ocean, making waves crash around Dean’s heart.

Dean wants to forget that look too.  He wants to forget anything bad has ever happened to Cas just as much as he wants Cas to forget.  Even if it’s just for the night.  Just for an hour.  Dean wants them to forget.

Soon, he’ll have to get rid of that ghost, he’ll have to go back to his own time.  He has no idea what he’ll be going back to.  Will Mr. Novak be the same?  Will he remember him?  It’s so tangled and confusing and Dean just needs things to be simple, right here, right now, with Cas.

Once they’ve reached the edge of uptown, Dean stops to catch his breath.  Cas sidles up next to him, his head ducked and hands on his knees. 

“What was that about?”  Cas manages between heaving breaths. 

“We’re just running away from our problems for a bit.  Just for tonight.” 

Standing up right, Cas tilts his head, a small grin on his face.  “Oh?  And where will we be running to?”

Cas’ adventurous tone makes Dean smile back.  He can’t explain how happy it makes him that Cas is along for this little ride.  Though, Dean didn’t really have a plan when he started running; it was mostly just to clear his head. 

But now he has the perfect place in mind.  It’s he and Cas’ little meeting spot that he doesn’t even know about yet.  He looks around, his hand over his eyes, shielding them from the setting sun. 

“You know how to get to Chautauqua Park from here?”

Castiel’s brow quirks and he nods, his smile still in place. 

“Well then,” Dean grasps his hand again. “Lead the way, track star.”

This time, Cas drags Dean, immediately running fast with Dean’s legs barely managing to keep up.  Dean doesn’t even really pay attention to the path they’re following.  His eyes are on Cas, just watching him run, admiring the smile on his face that Dean can see from his view behind him. 

Dean admires the way the orange glow of the setting sun reflects off Cas’ skin.  He watches the way the wind pushes through Cas’ dark brown hair.  He looks down at the way their arms are swinging backwards and forwards together.  His eyes fall to their interlaced fingers to see how tightly they’re holding on. 

Finally, they make it to just outside the park.  Since it’s evening, there’s really no one there, so they get to be alone.  They’re out in an empty field of grass, their pace slowing a bit.

Eventually, Dean stops and collapses on the grass, pulling Cas down with him.  Laughing, they land on their backs, legs spread, heads connected and hands still holding fast together. 

They’re both looking up at the darkening blue sky, chests heaving as their laughter slowly dies out.  They turn to each other, both still smiling with flushed faces. 

“Dean,” Cas starts, “Why did you want to come here?”

“Oh, I dunno, to watch the sunset or some shit?”  Dean rolls over on his side toward Cas, head resting on his bent arm.  “That’s what kids do on dates, right?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Cas shrugs, propping himself up on his elbows.  “It is a nice idea though.  The sky is lovely.” 

Dean studies Cas’ profile.  It’s all scrunched up as he peers at the sun, the blues, oranges, pinks and purples painting his face.  Dean feels himself flushing all over again.  Cas is much more lovely than any sunset. 

The sun rises and falls every day.  It paints the sky different colors, lights it up, lets it go dim.  It happens every day, for everyone in the world to see.  The sun is incredible, but it’s always been there.  Cas, though, Cas is something else.  There’s nothing in the world like Cas. 

Cas is unique; Cas only happens once.

Though in a way, Dean, lucky son of a bitch that he is, gets to experience him twice.   

He rolls onto his stomach, props himself on his elbows, then takes Cas’ cheek in his hand.  He leans in, turning Cas’ face towards him, then kisses him. 

It’s slow and sweet this time, not panicked like it was in the restaurant.  Just a soft kiss that Dean holds on to, stroking Cas’ smooth, warm cheek as he feels Cas’ hand wrap around his wrist.  They both press a little harder into the kiss, then lower their bodies down, Dean halfway draped over Cas. 

Cas is the first to part his lips and slide his tongue through this time, and Dean mimics him happily.  Cas’ hands slip under Dean’s jacket, wrapping around his waist and hugging tight.  Dean’s fingers run through Cas’ hair, his other hand wedged underneath his shoulder.  They keep the kiss slow, romantic as the sun lowers, nighttime covering them to give them privacy. 

Neither notice the darkness, neither notice the passage of time as they kiss and hold onto each other’s warmth.  Dean feels that warmth everywhere; from Cas’ arms wrapped around him, to his body beneath him, and everywhere along his own body, inside and out. 

Time matters so much while Dean’s in this town, in this _year_ , but right now, time doesn’t make a lick of fuckin’ difference.  Time doesn’t matter at all while he’s kissing Cas.

So he keeps kissing him.  He keeps tasting his tongue, sucking in those big pink lips, letting his hands travel across his body, then wrap around and hug him in close.  Cas hugs tighter too, clutching Dean’s shirt, and pressing their mouths together harder.  They kiss deeply, but Dean keeps it slow, doesn’t want to rush.  He won’t part from Cas, not just yet.

The weather’s cooled around them, naturally this time.  Dean can tell that the only warmth he’s feeling is that of Cas’, and that the sun has long passed the horizon.  Still, they continue to kiss, Dean’s leg wedged between Cas’ and Cas’ wrapped around it.  Their kiss remains slow, but it begins to get a little heated.  Dean’s not ready for things to go there quite yet, not out here.  So, reluctantly, he decides to end it for now. 

Their lips part gradually, brushing against each other as they pull away.  Dean nuzzles Cas’ nose, placing a kiss on each cheek, right under his eyes. 

Cas slowly opens his eyes, smiling up at Dean.  Dean swallows heavily, smiling back.  Looking at him, feeling all this, it seems insane that they’ve only known each other three days now.

Well, Dean’s known Cas for a little bit longer, but it kinda feels like that doesn’t even count any more.  It doesn’t seem to matter how short a time they’ve known each other anyway, not with the way Cas is looking right back at him. 

Dean’s tongue tingles.  He wants to say something, but the only words he can think of are ones he just can’t say.  He _knows_ it’s too soon for that.

But Cas just keeps looking at him.  Like he wants Dean to say it.  Or like, he’s thinking it himself.  Like Cas is thinking it just as hard as Dean is and he could say it at any moment.  Dean’s not ready for that. 

So he gets up, abruptly parting their bodies, grabs for Cas’ hand and pulls him up.  Cas is looking at him startled, a bit of a goofy smile on his face, as Dean looks around the area. 

“We should go swimming.”  Dean announces.

“What?  Dean, we’ll freeze!”

Dean gives Cas a mischievous look.  “Not if we stay close.” 

With that, Dean takes off again.  He leads them toward a nearby neighborhood.  The houses are fairly nice, they all have fences.  At least one of them must have a pool.

“Dean,” Cas says suspiciously, though Dean’s pretty sure he’s already caught on.  “Where are we going?” 

Once they’re back in an alley, Dean drops Cas’ hand to hike himself up halfway on a fence and peer over it.  It’s a pretty big house, but no pool. 

A few more houses down and they find one.  It’s perfect; huge house, big ass pool, climbable fence. 

“C’mon, Cas.”  Dean hops up onto the fence, his fingers hooked over the top and shoe wedged inside one of the gaps in the chain links.  He swings his body over, sheds his jacket and kicks off his boots. 

“Dean, are you crazy?”  Cas yell-whispers and Dean just smirks, waving him over. 

Hesitantly, Cas repeats Dean’s motions and leaps over the fence, quietly removing his shoes and placing his glasses next to them. 

Without another second, Dean’s pulling Cas in, and they land with a loud splash.  They come up, breaking the surface with gasping laughter.  Before Cas can form the words to call Dean crazy, Dean’s pulling him in tight and kissing him breathless. 

They kiss and laugh, arms and legs tangled, bodies flushed together, not letting the cold catch them. 

Water trickles off of Dean’s hand as he lifts out of the water to cup Cas’ face.  He hears water drip behind him, then feel’s a hand on the back of his head, fingers carding through his hair.  They both tilt their heads, deepening the kiss, warm tongues and mouths heating up their bodies from the inside. 

Dean hooks his leg around Cas’ waist, pushing their bodies together even closer.  They start to bob up and down, making small waves in the pool as they rub sensuously together. 

Cas lets out a soft little moan that turns into a gasp when they hear the screen door to the house open. 

“What the fuck?” A middle aged man says as he strides out of the house, pointing a flashlight at the two boys in the pool.  Dean and Cas turn to him with a shock, eyes wide.

“Get the hell out of there before I call the cops!” 

The man keeps yelling obscenities at them as the two leap out of the pool and grab their stuff.  They throw their shoes over the fence, Dean tucks his jacket under his arm and Cas fumbles with putting on his glasses, then they clumsily hop over the fence.  They take their shoes and run.

Once they get to the end of the alley, they stop to put their shoes on and both bust out laughing.

“I cannot believe we just did that.” 

“That was awesome.”  Dean says proudly.  “You look good wet, by the way.”

Cas shakes his head and giggles.  “Shut up.”    


	10. And We Have Liftoff

The wind takes care of drying the two boys off as they run back to Castiel’s house.  Police sirens roar in the distance, making Castiel’s heart race even faster, despite Dean’s insistence that they’re not after them. 

Getting the cops called on him after breaking and entering onto someone’s property is certainly a new experience for Castiel.  One he can’t say he ever really expected to happen, but then again, every single moment with Dean is unexpected.

They make it back to Castiel’s house, both completely out of breath.  Dean mentions how much he wishes they’d taken his car instead of walking uptown, but Castiel disagrees.  He wouldn’t change their little adventure for the world. 

Actually, these past 3 days have felt like one big adventure.  Each day has been filled to the brim with so many new experiences, both bad, and incredibly good.  Dean walked into Castiel’s life with a whirlwind trailing after him, sweeping Castiel up in it and not letting go. 

Castiel doesn’t want to be let go; he never wants to look back.  He never wants the storm to settle.

It’s a surprising feeling, considering the mundane life he’s led up until now.  It had been lonely, but easy, and Castiel had grown so accustomed to the bland routine of his young life.  Things are quite the opposite now, with the way Dean has flipped his world around.

Also, this spirit, or whatever it is, seems to be getting more and more aggressive.  It’s frightening, but here with Dean he doesn’t find himself really bothered by it anymore. 

Truly, Castiel’s life has changed quite drastically over these past 3 days, but it’s a change most welcome.

They travel up to Castiel’s room in a somewhat heavy silence.  After the heated kisses they shared today, Dean staying the night with Castiel has certain inevitable expectations that have him, or perhaps both of them, feeling a bit nervous.  And excited. 

Castiel’s hand actually shakes as he grasps the doorknob to his room and opens the door, the squeaking hinges somehow more audible than ever.  They enter the room, and Castiel turns around to face Dean, both chuckling nervously when their eyes meet.

“So,” Dean starts, inching forward.  “What’s the plan now, Cas?”

Castiel swallows heavily, heat rising in his chest with every step closer Dean takes.  “Ah, well, it’s gotten late, and we have school tomorrow, so, I think we should get to bed.”

“Bed sounds good.”  Dean shucks his leather jacket off, letting it fall to the ground.  He’s hovering over Castiel now, eyes hooded and lips turned up in a smirk that’s somehow empty of smugness.  A look Castiel believes only Dean could manage.  

Castiel’s eyes nervously flick up to look at him, and he’s so beautiful, so unfathomable, that it almost hurts.  Dean’s only about an inch or two taller, but it seems like he’s towering over him.  It’s intimidating, but not necessarily bad.  Dean is obviously much more experienced in practically every way, and Castiel wants him, badly, but there’s still a tinge of uncertainty that Castiel can’t shake. 

It has been a hell of a three days, but it’s only been three days.  Should they really take this next step?

Dean is extremely close, Castiel can feel his breath, but he doesn’t make another move.  It seems quite clear that he’s waiting for Castiel to lead the way, to determine whether that next step should be taken.

Castiel clenches his fists, swallows heavily again, then tilts his head up to meet Dean’s lips.  They trade short, soft kisses, Castiel’s timid hands taking an eternity to unclench and travel, moving slowly up Dean’s chest.  Once they make it up and around Dean’s neck, their kiss deepens, Castiel dipping his tongue inside to meet Dean’s.  Finally, with a deep inhale through his nose, Dean takes Castiel in his arms, hugging him tight around the waist. 

They press into each other, gasping for air between each meeting of lips, and Castiel’s heart thuds loudly.  Heat swirls around his body, tingling from his skin to deep down in his bones.  It’s so intense that he seems to instinctually hold onto Dean tighter, feeling like he could float away if he lets go.  Dean responds in kind, clutching onto Castiel’s shirt, arms boxing him in. 

That heat vibrates in his groin, like there’s a direct connection to it from Dean’s lips and from his heart.  He can feel Dean’s growing erection prodding him as well, and it’s so dizzying that Castiel thinks he can’t possibly hold on to Dean tight enough.

They part lips with a sharp gasp, foreheads resting together as they pant, trading air. 

“Cas,” Dean breathes, a small laugh escaping him.  “I know you’ve never done this before, so we don’t have to.  I can find another room or a couch or something-“

“I want to.”  Castiel interrupts, causing Dean to look up, their grips on each other not loosening, but their foreheads parting just a bit.  “I want you, Dean.”

Dean looks at him, worried, almost pained.  Castiel doesn’t understand it beyond what he assumes is Dean’s apprehension about taking his virginity.  Sure, the first time is a big deal, but there’s no one in the known universe that Castiel would want to share it with than Dean.  He’s absolutely positive of that.

Dean doesn’t ask, but Castiel answers him anyway.  “I’m sure.  I want you.” 

He kisses Dean’s worry away, then slowly unwraps from him, walking backwards towards the bed and kicking his shoes off.  With trembling hands, he begins to unbutton his shirt, Dean’s hands coming to clasp over them. 

“Let me.”  He requests, bringing Castiel’s knuckles to his lips for a soft kiss before moving to take care of the rest of the buttons, then sliding his shirt off his shoulders. 

Letting out a shuddering breath, Castiel takes the hem of Dean’s shirt and lifts it over his head.  His eyes zero in on the tattoo Dean has on his chest, the tips of his fingers tingling as he traces around it.  Then he lets his hands slide down the warm, smooth planes of Dean’s chest, down his abdomen, then to his hips.  Dean is so perfect. 

Castiel unceremoniously tugs his white undershirt off, tossing it across the room.  Dean smiles approvingly, letting Castiel pull him down to the bed by the arms.  They clumsily crawl to the head of the bed, Dean practically collapsing on him when they make it there. 

Immediately they crash their mouths together, tongues twisting and twirling around.  Castiel involuntarily whimpers, needy, and he feels his cheeks flush.  Dean just presses into him harder, smashing their lips together.

Castiel’s hands lower, fidgeting with Dean’s jeans, his mind suddenly blanking on how to get them off with the hurricane of other thoughts and feelings rushing through him.  Luckily, Dean lifts himself a little to unbutton his and Castiel’s flies so they can both lower each other’s pants. 

Pants and socks are shed and across the room in seconds, leaving the two boys in only their underwear.  Castiel trails his hand along Dean’s thighs and over his ass, unable to resist touching.  Dean’s kissing at his neck when Castiel decides to hook his fingers under the waistband of Dean’s boxer-briefs.  He’s panting heavily, chest heaving and body shaking as he begins to tug at Dean’s underwear.  Dean kisses across Castiel’s collar bone, lifting himself again so Castiel can lower them down. 

As soon as his boxers are completely off, Dean collides their bodies back together, smashing into Castiel’s lips once more.  Heat courses ferociously through Castiel’s veins, pulsing and making him even dizzier with arousal.  His hands rake all across Dean’s naked body, his smooth back, the dip of his spine, the curve of his ass.  He feels like perfection and it’s overwhelming.

In an extreme moment of _want,_ he flips them over so he can be on top.  He looks down at Dean, feeling almost possessive as Dean gapes up at him, a dopey sort of smile on his parted lips.  Castiel pulls his own boxers off, finally, and their cocks meet, unrestricted by clothing.  It sends a jolt through Castiel, lighting him on fire. 

They stare at each other, both panting.  Castiel knows what he wants to do next, but he’s unsure what exactly would be the appropriate next step.  He blinks, trying to make words form a sentence in his brain.

“I don’t have condoms.”  He blurts.

Dean’s lips quirk up and he breathes out a fond little laugh that makes Castiel smile back.  “That’s okay.  You’re a virgin and I’m clean as a whistle, so we don’t really need ‘em.  Though I have some in my car that I can go get if you want.”

“No, no.  That’s okay.”

“Awesome.  Lube though, we do need, which I’m pretty certain you don’t have either.”

“Actually – ah – I do.”  Castiel feels himself blush as he reaches to the bedside table and pulls out a small bottle. 

“Oh,” Dean sing-songs, sounding pleasantly surprised.  He wiggles his eyebrows and growls.   

Castiel shakes his head and laughs, holding the bottle awkwardly.  He’s unsure still about how to ask for what he wants to do. 

Fortunately, Dean seems to have the ability to read him very well.  He hikes his legs up, spreading his thighs out, his heels resting lightly on Castiel’s back.  Castiel is frozen as he watches him, watches his expression darken with lust.  Castiel swallows hard, and Dean purrs, “Wanna fuck me, angel?”

Castiel makes a choked off noise, shuddering so hard his forgotten glasses fall off his face and land with a click on Dean’s chest.  Dean chuckles, taking them and setting them down on the bedside table.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”  He coos, and Castiel manages a small, twitchy grin.

“Um,” Castiel croaks, fumbling with the bottle in his hand as he moves to sit on his heels.  He looks at the display before him, Dean naked, legs draped around him, and he gulps hard again.  “I, um, I only know the basics here…can-can you-ah-“

“Yeah, Cas, I’ll talk ya through it.  Just lube up two or three of your fingers, okay?”

Castiel nods, popping open the bottle and following Dean’s instructions.   When he’s done, his eyes trail down Dean’s body again, settling at the crease of his bare ass.  Dean spreads his legs a bit more, hiking his thighs up, fully displaying himself for Castiel in an obscene picture that makes his mouth go dry.

“Go ahead,” Dean whispers, nodding, “Slowly.”

Scooting forward, Castiel traces his trembling fingers around Dean’s hole.  He timidly sticks the first finger in, feeling Dean automatically flutter around it. 

“Yeah, Cas, go on.”

 He dips his finger in further, slowly, getting a feel for Dean’s silky hot entrance.  His cock twitches almost violently, making him grunt and push further in.  His eyes dart to Dean’s face, making sure he didn’t hurt him, and he seems okay.  He nods at Castiel approvingly, gesturing for him to keep going.

Castiel’s eyes then fall to Dean’s cock, it’s hard and flushed red; beautiful.  Unable to resist, he takes hold of it with his other hand, stroking it slowly, lightly just a couple times to watch Dean’s reaction.  Dean smiles, laughing a little through a groan.  Castiel smiles too, biting his lip, then releases him to go back to his original task.

Dean hums, moving his hand to clasp around Castiel’s wrist.  He pushes Castiel in deeper, then pulls him out, then repeats the motion.  Castiel catches on, boldly inserting a second finger, pushing in and curling them upward. 

“Ah,” Dean breathes, and Castiel catches the most erotic look he has on his face. “Just like that, baby.”

So Castiel keeps going, his own erection almost forgotten with the task in front of him stealing his concentration.  However, it does seem like he’s only getting harder, watching Dean.  Feeling him. 

He’s rocking up and down on the bed along with Castiel’s fingers, his jaw dropping occasionally when Castiel reaches a certain spot.  Each time he reaches it Castiel feels a spark of pride.  His nervousness gives way almost completely to that pride, knowing he’s managing to please Dean so well. 

He adds the third finger, and Dean keens, his back arching.  Castiel spreads out his fingers, twisting them and curling them around, just marveling at Dean’s every reaction. 

Bending forward, he doesn’t let up his ministrations, but he can’t resist claiming Dean’s mouth in an open kiss.  Dean moves up to meet him halfway, somehow knowing Castiel’s plans even though his eyes are squeezed shut.  They kiss, moaning into it, their cocks pressed together and Castiel’s fingers punishing Dean’s prostate, massaging it over and over.

Dean grabs a lock of Castiel’s hair and pulls him away with a shrill gasp.  “Baby, you better fuck me now or you gonna have me coming early with those fingers of yours.  Can’t have that.”

Castiel flushes as he laughs, unable to resist the proud smile spreading across his face.  Dean cups his cheek then pinches his chin, smiling back at him, with a dazed look, face glistening with sweat. 

Removing his fingers slowly, Castiel lifts himself back up a bit.  He trails his other hand down Dean’s glossy, freckled chest, feeling his skin tingle like electricity that zaps through his body from the tips of his fingers. 

His heart pulses and he feels like he’s on fire.   

All Dean wants is him and Dean is all his.  Castiel can’t believe it, but it’s real.  His head seems like it’s been swimming since the moment they’ve met, and it gives no sign of stopping.  Certainly not now.

Without another second to spare, he squirts out more lube, coating his cock with it.  He goes about it a bit too vigorously, thrusting up into his fist with a gasp.  He jerks his hand away, feeling another blush rise to his face.  His eyes fall shut and his chest heaves as he tries to center himself; catch his breath.

Suddenly, he feels another hand on him, and his eyes shoot open.  Dean’s smiling, biting his lip as he coats Castiel’s dick gently with lube.  It’s well wet and slick when he pulls away with a tight, teasing tug that makes Castiel jerk.

“Dean,” He groans.

Dean snickers and winks, lying back down again. 

“Come on, Cas, you got it.  You’re good.”

After heaving one more sigh, Castiel arranges his body, lining his cock up with Dean’s entrance.  The head grazes it, sending a shock of heat shooting up through him.  Castiel whimpers, then shakes his head and tries to steady himself.

He won’t let Dean down.

Gingerly, he pushes inside, and if Castiel thought he was on fire before, he definitely is now.  He inches in a little further, Dean’s palm on the small of his back, beckoning him.  He’s so burning hot, wet, and tight around Castiel.  He’s never felt anything so good.

His eyes fall shut, he bites his lip and just goes for it.  He slides in, burying himself inside completely, barely hearing Dean’s moaning over his own. 

Once he’s inside, he opens his eyes and looks down at Dean’s beet red cock, his heaving chest and his begging expression. 

Dean doesn’t say anything though.  Castiel can tell he’s letting him take the lead, as much as possible. 

Finally, he starts to move.  He pulls out half way, then goes back in, then in and out, picking up his pace just a little bit with each careful thrust.  Dean clings to his shoulders, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. 

When he catches Dean’s expression again it looks almost pained.  It spikes Castiel’s chest with worry, so he stops mid-thrust.

“Am I hurting you?” he rasps, body quaking with the need to keep moving, but refuses to until he knows Dean is okay.

“No, no.  You’re doing great, Cas.” Dean whispers, cupping the back of his neck, thumb stroking the short hairs there.  He’s flushed, face a little tense, but when he smiles, Castiel knows it’s genuine.  “Perfect.  Don’t stop.”

Castiel nods rapidly, relief overflowing when he starts to move again.  He gradually picks his speed back up, keeping an eye on Dean’s face to make sure he’s okay. 

Once he’s steadily thrusting again, Dean hums in approval, his neck arching as he bites his lip.  Castiel’s own quivering lips form a smile as he ducks his head down, forehead meeting Dean’s shoulder.

Soon Castiel finds himself collapsing onto Dean, arms bent with elbows at either side of him.  His eyes have fallen closed again as he loses himself in the movement and the feeling.  He keeps up his steady pace now, Dean’s ankles pushing him in a little deeper each time.

The mattress bounces and squeaks beneath them, but it’s hardly a noticeable sound with the way the two boys are gasping and moaning.  Castiel pants, hot breath after hot breath onto Dean’s skin.  Their lips brush past each other, mouths open.  Castiel feels Dean’s hands all over him, clutching and pawing at him, tugging at his hair.

When he thrusts at just the right angle, he reaches that perfect spot inside Dean, making him arch and curse.  Castiel feels himself flush every time, rush of heat flowing through him, circling his heart. 

It’s getting more and more intense, electric, almost painful heat plummets through him.  He can feel it settling low, ready to burst, but it’s too soon for that.  Castiel wants this to last forever and ever. 

Dean is perfect around him, calling his name and holding onto him so tight.  It’s completely overwhelming. 

He doesn’t think he can last much longer. 

“Dean, Dean,” he manages, thrusts becoming uneven. 

He wraps his arms around Dean tight, needing to hold on to him as he loses control.  Dean holds on just as securely, whispering in Castiel’s ear, telling him it’s okay, it’s okay.  

Castiel’s breaths come out in shuddered cries as he thrusts in one, two, three more times and that’s it.  He stiffens, his world blanking out then flashing back to life and he comes, shouting Dean’s name. 

“Dean,” he drags it out with his release, pressing his forehead on to Dean’s. 

Then he’s spent, still inside, still shaking, as he feels Dean’s hand working between them.  Castiel reaches a trembling hand down, placing it lightly over Dean’s, unable to really help, but still wanting to touch. 

Using his free hand, Dean lifts Castiel’s head up to meet him for a kiss, holding his lips there.  Underneath Castiel he arches up one last time, lips still connected as he comes in hot and wet bursts between them.

Dean shudders, breathing out, “Oh, Cas,” when he’s done, falling flat on his back again. 

Even though he doesn’t want to yet, Castiel gently pulls out, wincing a bit with oversensitivity.  He lies back down on Dean, their limp legs tangled and arms hugging around each other.  They kiss sluggishly, Castiel still trembling but gradually coming down from the high.

They part their kiss after a minute, both settling to relax, Castiel’s head tucked in the crook of Dean’s neck.  Lovingly, Dean strokes his back and Castiel nuzzles behind the back of Dean’s ear. 

“How ya feelin’, angel?  Good?”  he murmurs, deep tones soothing in Castiel’s ear.

“I,” Castiel starts, huffing out a laugh, “Yes.  Good.”

Dean laughs a little too, lazily.  “Good first time?”

“There are no words, Dean.” 

That’s only partly true.  There are no proper descriptive terms for what Castiel just experienced, for what he felt during and what he’s feeling now.  However, there are definitely words he would like to say.  Still, he thinks, it’s too soon.  Much too soon for that.

By all rights it should feel too soon for _this_.  He really doesn’t know Dean that well.  He’s still so mysterious, so guarded. 

But Dean is still stroking his back, so sweetly.  Whispering about how great he was between soft kisses he’s placing everywhere he can reach.  He interlaces their fingers and kisses across his knuckles, each kiss burning Castiel.  Burning like fire through his veins and to his heart.  He thinks that Dean _must_ want to say those words too.

Castiel’s heart starts pounding again with the need for it, he’s so tired, but his heart won’t stop working overtime.  He _has_ to say it.

So he does.

Dean freezes when he hears it.  He didn’t think either of them would dare say that so _soon._   Dean didn’t think he’d say it ever.  To anyone.  Or hear it.

The words pang in his ears, punch his heart.  It thuds in his chest, and he gulps, eyes open wide and staring hard at the ceiling. 

_“I love you.”_

It echoes in Dean’s brain, Castiel’s voice barely above a whisper when he said it, but inside Dean it’s like it’s being shouted on a megaphone in a football stadium. 

After far too long a silence, Dean turns his head slowly to look at Castiel.  His eyes are shut, serene look on his face despite the fact that he just told Dean he loved him and got no response.  Perhaps, Dean selfishly hopes, Cas was too tired to even realize what he was doing.  Too tired to realize what Dean’s _not_ doing. 

As gently as possible, Dean scoots out from under Cas and slides out of the bed.  He quietly walks over to flip the light off, then goes to the bathroom to clean himself off a bit.  He pointedly avoids looking himself in the mirror. 

He’s suddenly overcome with shame. 

He looks over his shoulder through the open bathroom door to look at Cas, sleeping soundly, snug in the cushy comforter.  It was a weird day, but a fantastic night.  Dean wishes he could feel happy right now. 

Sneaking back over to the bed, he tucks himself under the covers.  It’s so warm, so comforting here with Cas.  He scoots his back toward him, burrowing against Cas’ chest.  He takes one of his arms and wraps it around his waist, curling his fingers around Cas’ hand. 

It’s warm, so comfortable.  Perfect, really.  But Dean can’t sleep.

Now that his mind is back to reality, he’s plagued with troubling thoughts.  The ghost, Jimmy Novak, is waiting for them at the school.  Who knows what the thing will do next.  Dean has to get rid of it quickly, but the sooner he does, the sooner he’ll have to leave.  The sooner he’ll have to tell Cas the truth.

The insane, impossible truth. 

It’s his _job_ though, his life, and it must be done.  It was Dean’s own stupid, asshole fault for coming in here thinking he could have a little fun with Cas, no attachments, get the job done and leave.  He was crazy to think it; in denial, really. 

Worst of all is that Cas is in love with him, and Dean can’t enjoy it.  It makes his throat tighten and his heart squeeze.  He can’t enjoy it, he can’t love him back, because he has to leave. 

Even if by some miracle Mr. Novak will be waiting for him in ten years, he can’t stay with him then either.    

He knows it’s going to hurt so badly, but that’s the way it’s going to be.  That’s the way Dean’s life is. 

He stares at the wall, eyes burning, unable to sleep.  The only comfort the night offers him are Castiel’s warm, sweet little breaths puffing on the back of his neck.  He’s glad that Cas is sleeping soundly, glad Cas had a good night. 

That’s the only thought that sooths him enough to eventually lull him into a light sleep. 

Right before he drifts off, Dean realizes he hasn’t smoked a single cigarette all day.


	11. The Implausible Dean Winchester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh NO

Hardly any time seems to pass at all before Cas’ alarm is blaring in their ears.  Dean jolts awake, and the two boys groan, Cas reaching across him to shut it off.  His arm returns to Dean immediately, hugging him in tight.  Dean squeezes his hand.

“Good morning, Dean.”

“Mornin’.  Sleep well?”

“Mmm,” Castiel hums, rolling his body up against Dean, greeting him not so subtly with his erection. 

“Well, well,” Dean coos, the guilty pit in his stomach giving way a bit. 

He rolls over to face Cas and they immediately hug and kiss.  Dean’s certainly hard too, sliding up against Cas as they deepen the kiss, things heating up fast.  Hell of a way to start the morning. 

Inside, Dean’s conscience is telling him to stop, that doing this is only going to make their inevitable conversation even worse, but he can’t do it.  Won’t do it.  How could he, when gorgeous Cas is moaning into his mouth, grabbing at his ass and rubbing their cocks together so fucking gloriously? 

They move sensuously up against each other in waves, Dean’s leg hooked around Cas’ waist.  It feels hot and amazing, just being pressed together like this in such fluid rhythm.  Lost in the moment, Dean grabs at Cas’ hair, hooking his fingers in it and hugging him so tight, groaning. 

Neither stop kissing, they just trade gasps and sighs, moans and whispered words when they can manage. 

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean breathes, and Castiel swallows the words, smiling into the kiss as he digs his fingers hard into Dean’s ass. 

Things start to speed up and they can’t quite kiss anymore, lips still touching as they keen and gasp.  Dean wedges his hand between them, grabbing them both and jacking them rapidly. 

Arousal burns through his body, shivers striking down to his toes.  He pumps them hard, fast, and Cas is whimpering, a desperate look on his face.  Dean feels that desperation too in all kinds of ways, most prominently being his oncoming orgasm. 

It builds and builds into a heat so sharp his mind goes blank and all he can do is keep up the rhythm of their bodies and his hand.  Their breaths are coming out in short, shallow gasps and they squeeze each other harder and harder, fingers digging in deep as they can.

Then in the next second it happens.

White fire burns through Dean as he comes in bursts between them, Cas following close behind him, shuddering in Dean’s grip. 

When the dust settles, they go limp in unison, arms and legs still wrapped around however loosely. 

“God damn, Cas.”  Dean laughs, still mostly out of breath. 

Cas laughs too, nuzzling Dean.  “I must admit, I wasn’t exactly intending for all of that.”

“Well, I’m never against a quickie in the morning.”

A sweet smile spreads across Cas’ flushed face and he gives Dean a soft kiss before pulling away.  “Though I hesitate to use the word, as there was nothing unfortunate about what just happened, but – unfortunately, that wasn’t all that quick, so we’re running a tad late.” 

Propped up on his elbow, he leans in for one last kiss to Dean’s forehead before sliding out of bed.  Dean groans, trying to sound overdramatic, but inside he truly doesn’t want this day to go any further.  He sits on the edge of the bed, watching Cas grab clothes out of his dresser. 

“Hey, we should play hooky today.  Ferris Bueller it up.”  He gives Cas his most charming, however sleepy, smirk.

Cas looks back at Dean over his shoulder, quirking a brow, “Do what?  With who?”

“We should skip school today.”  Dean stands up off the bed with a grunt, then stretches before walking over to Cas and sliding his arms around his waist. 

Cas huffs a laugh as he closes one of the drawers.  “I know we haven’t known each other long, Dean, but I’m positive you know me better than to suggest that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I just – I’d rather spend the day with you.  Naked.”  Dean punctuates his sentence with a wet kiss to the back of Cas’ neck.

After placing his clean clothes on the top of the dresser, Cas turns around to wrap his arms around Dean’s shoulders.  “We’ll be together most of the day, won’t we?” 

They slot their lips together for a warm kiss, then Dean continues his whining.  “Yeah, but not naked.”

Cas shakes his head and smiles, releasing himself from Dean’s hold before grabbing his clothes and heading to the bathroom.  Dean watches his ass.

“Well then I suggest we take advantage of what naked time we have left.  Now come on, Dean, I want to shower with you.”

Dean takes a deep breath and puffs up his chest with a nod, then follows Cas into the bathroom. 

He swallows around that tightness in his throat, tosses the guilt aside for now. 

In the shower, they wash each other, shampoo each other’s hair, kissing and laughing.  Every time Cas gives Dean that big, sweet smile, every time he lets out that cute little chuckle, his chest tightens more and more.  It’s getting difficult to ignore, but he tries.  He wants to savor this happiness for as long as he can.

Once they’re out of the shower, drying off and getting dressed, Dean grows somber.  His thoughts gather powerfully in his head to where it almost hurts to keep them in.  He can feel how deeply he’s frowning, how tense his face is. 

Luckily, Cas is too busy getting ready to really notice yet. 

They’re dressed after not too much longer, Cas hurriedly tossing his dirty clothes in the hamper and gathering his school stuff.  Once his bag is slung over his shoulder, he slides on his glasses then turns to Dean.  “Alright, let’s grab some breakfast and get going.  Ready?”

Cas doesn’t wait for a response, he opens the door and starts to leave, but before he can exit Dean finds himself grabbing at his wrist. 

“Wait, Cas.”  His voice is low, sadder than he expected it to sound.

“What?”  Cas says, looking over his shoulder at him again.

“I need to tell you something.  I need to tell you everything.” 

Castiel looks at him, worried, and Dean can feel how pathetic he must look right now.  The guilt inside him, everything inside him, it hurts so much and it’s only going to get worse, but if he can at least get it out he’ll find some relief. 

“Okay,” Cas nods, “But I don’t want to discuss anything important while we’re rushing out the door.  Can we talk on the way to school?”

Dean swallows, clenches his jaw, then whispers, “Yeah.”

They head out of Cas’ room, and Dean could swear that each time he takes this trip down the hallway and the stairs it seems like it takes longer and longer.  Today it feels like he’s walking death row, but instead of being handcuffed, his hand is still curled tight around Cas’ wrist.  He can’t let go all the same.

The kitchen is bustling with Cas’ siblings.  Dean didn’t even realize they were home.  A couple of them seem around their age, but younger.  Dean surmises they must be the two that Cas told him about; he can’t remember their names.  There’s also a red head girl and a tall blonde guy who look older, and Dean sees Cas’ parents too, shuffling about.  They’re all dressed business-like, chattering to each other.  Dean also sees Gabriel with his mouth stuffed with food and a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. 

They mostly shove by them, but a few pat Cas on the shoulder and ask if he’s okay.  The red head gives him a hug and kiss on the cheek.  None of them really acknowledge Dean except for Gabriel who gives him a curt nod, slightly smirking. 

It’s somewhat loud and crazy busy, but quiet Cas seems unaffected.  Dean assumes it must always be like this.  It’s amusing to experience this burst of energy in this giant house that Dean’s only seen to be very empty and very still.

There’s toast and a bunch of fruit on the dining room table.  Cas makes he and Dean a plate miraculously in the chaos, and Dean grabs them some juice.  They find a space on the counter and eat standing up, which is nothing Dean isn’t used to in his own crazy life. 

The food’s good though.  It’s healthy and refreshing, which is certainly not what he’s used to experiencing with his meals. 

By the time they’re done with breakfast, the kitchen and dining room are mostly cleared out.  Dean’s ears are somewhat ringing with the all that unexpected noise suddenly gone.

Cas looks to a clock on the wall and his eyes widen.  Dean does a double take as Cas whips his dishes out of his hand and rushes into the kitchen, dumping them in the sink.  He calls out to Dean and they hurry out the front door. 

Dean’s heart starts thudding loudly when they get to the car.  He reaches around from behind Cas to unlock and open the passenger door for him, and Cas plops right in.  Dean takes a deep breath, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he travels around the front of the car, which at the moment seems like a painstakingly long distance.

Once Dean’s settling in and driving, Cas breaks the silence first.  “Sorry about the chaos in the kitchen.  I wasn’t sure how much of my family was home.  There haven’t been so many of them in a long while.”

“Hey, it’s cool.  No problem.”

“And I didn’t introduce you either!”  Cas practically shouts, turning to Dean with a shock.  He looks completely distressed.  “That’s so rude of me.  I apologize.”

Dean chuckles and pats his thigh, “That’s alright, sweetheart.  Another time.”  He nearly chokes on the last word, quickly realizing that there probably won’t _be_ another time.    He erases that thought and tries to move on.  “Who were they anyway?  Who was the red-head?”

“That’s my older sister Anna.”

“And the blonde dude with the man cleavage?”

Castiel chuckles, ducking his head, “I’m assuming your referring to Balthazar and his love of v-necks.”

“That was a chick’s shirt.  Not that I’m judging.”

“Uh-huh,” Cas shakes his head, then continues.  “Gabriel was also there, who you’ve met, as well as Hester and Inias, my younger sister and brother.”

“Right, right.  Okay.  Hell of a list of names, but I’ll try and remember.”

“Yes.  We’re all named after angels.”

“Ah,” Dean nods, and resists saying he thinks Cas is the only real angel in the bunch.  That’s too cheesy even for him, though he totally believes it.  Tragically, the thought just stabs into his heart, stifling his smile. 

“So, Dean,” Cas begins, and Dean’s heart pulses harshly in his ears. “What did you want to tell me?”

Dean squeezes and twists at the steering wheel.  He rolls his shoulders back and heaves a heavy sigh.  “I wanna tell you everything, Cas.”

Out of the corner of his eye, because he can’t bring himself to look that way, he sees Cas turn toward him in his seat.  Even in his peripherals he can see those big, piercing blue eyes.

He doesn’t say anything, so Dean just lets it spill out.  “I know I’ve kept a shit load from you, and you’ve been nothing but generous and trusting of me, so I want to at least repay you by giving you the truth about me.  All of it.”

Dean’s heart squeezes as he sucks in a shuddering breath, Cas’ expectant, concerned face still partly in view.  “That ghost.  That thing that keeps attacking you at the school.  He’s why I’m here.”

Cas tilts his head, “What do you mean?”

“I’m here to get rid of him.  You see, Cas, that’s what I do.  That’s what my family does.  We hunt down monsters, ghosts, every other nasty thing you’ve been brought up to believe ain’t real, and we kill it, so you can go on believin’ just that.  My dad got word of a ghost haunting your school, so I’m here to send it packin’.”

“You…hunt monsters?  That’s why your family travels?”

“Yeah.  I know it sounds crazy, but-“

“And your father let you do this by yourself?”

“Well, yeah, since it’s just one ghost-“

“That’s horrible!”  Castiel shouts, making Dean jump and finally turn his gaze toward him.  Cas looks completely horrified.

“It’s not that bad, Cas, I’ve been doing this forever.”

“Forever?  You’re only 18!”  Cas scoots toward Dean, grabbing his arm. “Let me help you with this ghost.  I won’t get in the way.  I’ll do whatever you ask.”

“No, hell no, Cas.  No friggin’ way.”

“Dean,” Cas growls sternly.

“Cas, no.  I’m trying to get this thing to leave you alone, not toss you in the ring with it.  That’s probably just what it wants.”

“What are you talking about?”

They’re nearly at the school now.  The parking lot is just up ahead and they’re reaching the end of Dean’s story.  It hasn’t gone exactly as bad as he thought it would, Cas is so trusting, but Dean isn’t holding onto much hope of that lasting.

“The thing is haunting _you_ Cas.  It wants you.”

Dean turns to Cas again to see his expression go blank.  All the color leaves his face, and he’s completely still, other than the fingers digging into Dean’s arm.  It hurts a little bit, but Dean doesn’t mind it.  He almost likes the touch.

Pulling in to park, Dean continues.  “That’s why all that weird crap has been happening to you, and no one else.  It’s been following you around.  It will for years unless I stop it.”

They’re parked now, fellow students walking by, the crowd boisterous around them.  Dean doesn’t really register the outside noise though, now that he’s turned toward Cas, their eyes locked.  He swallows, and his throat is so tight at this point it physically hurts. 

Cas’ grip on Dean’s arm gradually loosens, but his face is still pale and he hasn’t blinked. 

“Dean,” He croaks, “If you won’t allow me to assist you, then I must insist that you stay away from this ghost until your father can help you.” 

“’Fraid that’s way too long a wait.”

Cas squints.  “Why?”

“Because,” Dean starts, too afraid to look into Cas’ eyes, so he looks down before continuing.  “Because I got here about 10 years ahead of them.”

“What?” Cas’ says low, voice sandpapery.  He takes his hand away from Dean’s arm, and Dean can practically feel his growing skepticism.

“I’m from the future, Cas.  This ghost, it uh, it zapped me here from 2013.”

“From…the future.”  Castiel repeats, his heart rate steadily increasing.  Suddenly the inches between them feel like a thousand miles.

“Yeah,” Dean whispers with a grimace.

“Dean,” Castiel’s eyes fall shut, and he moves to sit up properly in the seat, facing forward, his back perfectly straight.  “Time travel is impossible.  Please tell me the truth.” 

A lump grows in Castiel’s throat.  He feels cold, not quite the same cold as he’s felt during those incidents in the school, but a different cold.  It’s lonely and dark.  Much worse.

“I know, it’s fucking crazy, Cas, but that’s the truth.  I don’t know how, but it’s true.  I don’t even wanna know how.  I just want it to get me home, and pass the hell on already.”

“So this is your excuse for leaving then?”  Castiel blurts, eyes focused straight ahead.

“Huh?” 

“You’re some time-traveling, monster hunter who’s swooped in to rescue me, then is off again?”  Castiel faces Dean then, his eyes beginning to burn.  “Please don’t treat me like a child, Dean.  I may be socially inept, but I’m not weak or stupid.  If you didn’t want anything beyond sex with me, than you should have just said so.”

“Cas, no, that’s not – you really think I’d make this shit up?!” Dean yells, slamming his fist onto the steering wheel.

“I don’t know.  I feel I don’t know you at all right now.”

“Cas, this is not me trying to make up some reason to break up with you.  I don’t want to break up with you at all! But…I am going to have to leave soon and so…I wanted you to know why.”

Castiel can’t look at him.  He swallows, fighting back any tears. 

“So, can we please not ruin what little time I have left here?”  Dean tentatively reaches out, Castiel can see his hand approaching but he doesn’t want it.  He suddenly feels so angry, disgusted and used. 

“Please don’t touch me.”  He speaks plainly, glad that his voice doesn’t break around the thick feeling in his throat.

He hears Dean make an exasperated groan, then out of the corner of his eye he sees him wrestle with his jacket pockets.  He pulls out a pack of cigarettes, shaking it to make one pop out of the opening.  The second he places it up to his lips Castiel feels like he’s about to explode with anger.

Dean with his smoking and his leather and car, his mystery and deceit, his inability to take care of himself or let others take care of him.  Stupid Dean with his family that may or may not even exist.  Gorgeous Dean with his freckles, with his warm, strong hugs and his kisses.  Damn Dean with the way he came out of nowhere, with the way that makes his bizarre, ridiculous story somehow seem possible.  Asshole Dean with his dangerous, nonsense life that he’s far too beautiful and kind to have ever been born into.  Fucking Dean with his _smoking._  

In a fit of rage, or just plain confusion, Castiel grabs the pack of cigarettes with a snarl.  He crushes it in his fist, then storms out of the car.  He barrels up the steps to the school, tossing the smashed cigarette pack in the garbage. 

Sadness burns under the skin of his face, around his eyes. 

But he holds back the tears.  


	12. Carbon Dioxide Copy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of art in all of these chapters, I'm hoping to add some at some point because there are several scenes I wanted to illustrate.

Obviously Dean doesn't attend "his" classes that day.

Now that he's come full circle as a total moron, which he reasons no amount of education can rescue him from, he decides to focus on the one thing he absolutely cannot fuck up: the job. 

In hopes of finding any trace at all of the Novaks’ history, he spends the day doing research at a local library.  He gathers stack upon stack of microfilm strips containing the town’s records and old newspapers to feed into the reader.  For countless hours he views slide after slide, his eyes starting to burn under the yellow glow of the blurry magnified articles on the screen. 

Just as a frustrated groan begins to escape him, he finally finds Jimmy Novak's obituary.  His trained eyes fall to the written information first; that's the important bit.  The kid was only 18 when he died, same age Cas is now, Dean’s conscience generously provides. 

It says he killed himself.

Says he had a big family.

Says it happened a hundred years ago.  Dean snorts, thinking that it's no wonder it took him so long to find any records on the guy.  He sifts through the slides until he finds a small article on Jimmy's death.

According to the article, Jimmy killed himself in the gym locker room.  Hung himself.  It says he was a quiet kid, talks again about his big family.  Says they were all completely shocked, none saw it coming.  Dean shakes his head, thinking that's what everyone says and it's total bull shit.  The article mentions in passing that he was an A+ student and that he even earned a silver medal in a track meet.  That makes Dean's heart jump in his throat.

And when his eyes finally land on the photo of Jimmy Novak, his heart does a back flip. 

He looks exactly like Castiel.

The photo is fuzzy, the paper's old, but the resemblance is still obviously uncanny.  Dean's body quakes, a chill circles his heart and settles under his ribcage, unmoving.  Dean stares at the picture.  His hands are shaking violently, one palm flat on the wooden desk and the other jerking around where it's clasped on the microfilm reader's knob. 

He stares at the picture for so long in frozen shock that he’s nearly rendered numb by it. 

Well into late evening, he leaves the library with photocopies of that old paper tucked under his arm.  He walks to his car then drives straight to the school, expression and mind almost robotically blank the entire time.

After breaking in the building like he's done so many times now, he immediately walks in the direction of the locker room, the stomp of his boots echoing loudly in the halls.  The air in the entire school feels arctic.  The EMF in his jacket pocket is whirring and buzzing loudly.  Dean just clutches onto the articles, and onto his shotgun, unfazed.

When he takes the left turn into the hallway leading to the gym, the lights flicker and he sees a form flash in front of him.   

"Dean."

Dean stops in his tracks, his fists clenching.  His voice is different from Cas'.  It's softer, a bit more boyish.  Not gravelly like Cas'. 

"Jimmy." 

"Man, you really botched this up didn't you?"  The ghost of Jimmy Novak says as walks up closer.  His image gets clearer the closer he gets.  His skin is grey, dark circles surrounding his eyes, like all ghosts.  His polo shirt and slacks are dusty and frayed.  There’s a dark bruise around his neck.  "I really had a lot more faith in you."

"You're scolding me?  Is that really what I'm hearing right now?"  Dean rasps.  Jimmy just tilts his head, a smug little smirk on his face.  It's nothing as cute and endearing as it is when Cas does it.  "You've been fucking with Cas all this time and you're getting onto _me?_ "

Jimmy pockets his hands and heaves a sigh, a defeated chuckle making his shoulders bounce a bit.  "You know, I thought picking a hunter would be a great idea.  You'd know about ghosts, wouldn't think Cas was crazy.  And you practically fell into my lap; seemed too perfect to pass up.  Good looking guy, exactly Cas’ type, just the right age.  But nope.  Guess I kinda jumped the gun.  Didn't really account for all your self-doubt."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You were supposed to fix things, Dean.  You were supposed to make Cas better.  Make him happier."

Dean's face screws up, looks at Jimmy with revulsion.  "Cas doesn't need to be fixed."

Jimmy snorts, "Are you kidding me?  Did you forget how batshit he looked when you first met him?  The guy's a mess."

"What are you the Paris Hilton of ghosts?  How shallow are you?  You brought me back in time just tell Cas to dress nice and comb his hair?"

"No, you idiot."  Jimmy booms, making the ground quake.  Dean drops the files tucked under his arm and aims the shotgun at him.  Jimmy just walks up closer, the atmosphere vibrating with every step.  His face is oddly serene, his hands still pocketed.  He stops to stand about two feet in front of Dean.  Gingerly, he lifts a hand out of his pocket, wrist limp until he flicks it up, sending Dean flying to the side, slammed up against a set of lockers. 

Dean shouts as he collides into the lockers with a loud bang.  Jimmy keeps him pinned there, his casual expression showing only the faintest tinge of anger.  Dean finds his mild manner much more unsettling than if he were actually raging like most ghosts do. 

He struggles, but he's being held fast up against the lockers by Jimmy, keeping him frozen solid.  Dean looks to the floor to notice his gun lying there next to the strewn about papers. 

His heart pounds and sweat beads on his forehead, though his body feels freezing cold.  He orders himself to keep it together; he can take on a single ghost.

Even if the ghost happens to look identical to Cas.

The more the day goes on, the more Castiel seems to be internally convincing himself that Dean's story was true.

He's frustrated by it; it makes him feel like a delusional, lovesick child. 

But it's just that there are so many things that start to make sense when considering that Dean could've - _traveled time_.  The way he seemed to sort of poof out of the ether into Castiel's world, and the way that feeling never left.  How he was sleeping in his car, or in the school, because he got to town "ahead of his family".  How he had no money, or at least very little. 

The way the two of them seemed to fall so seamlessly into a friendship.  Like it was the easiest thing in the world for Dean to talk to Castiel, to flirt with him without any apprehension.  Castiel has to think that when flirting with someone of the same sex, one has to be a little more informed about the other person. 

The way Dean called him "Cas" so smoothly, and how he barely interacted with anyone else.

How Dean's schedule was an almost exact copy of Castiel's. 

Why Dean had been so closed off about his life.

There were so many serendipitous things about Dean's arrival, about Dean's everything, that Castiel just can't shake the idea of Dean truly being a time traveler.  Or, at least having been brought to this time by that ghost.

Which is another thing.  If the ghost is real, which considering Castiel's firsthand experience with it, it is, then why can't time travel have occurred?  There are many sound theories arguing for the possibility, Castiel being a physics ace knows them quite well, however, they haven't been proven.  But, again, ghosts certainly haven't been proven to exist, yet here they are.

Here Dean is.

Castiel stares up at the ceiling in his bedroom, the lights out, though it's only early evening.  It doesn't matter, really.  Castiel knows he won't be getting any sleep tonight.  Though he stares vacantly, his mind is plagued with all these conflicting thoughts. 

Time travel is _impossible._   Dean is just a scumbag liar who wanted to get into a naive boy's pants. 

As many times as Castiel repeats that in his head, and aloud when he's feeling extra frustrated, it just can't seem completely true.  Dean has been so kind and warm, so sweet.  His words always seemed genuine.  Just as genuine as his hugs and his kisses.  If Castiel truly doesn't matter to Dean outside of being a piece of ass, why would he have cared so deeply about his well-being when that ghost attacked him?  Why would he have gotten so upset over what Castiel told him about his isolation from his family? 

Memories of Dean's words, his different expressions, flash through Castiel's mind.  Nothing about any of it screams "shallow" to Castiel.  Even when he when he first walked into Castiel's classroom as this glowing, cocky thing in sunglasses and a leather jacket, it didn't even take a full day before Castiel changed his mind about him totally.  He was anything but just another gorgeous bad boy to strut around the halls and ruin Castiel's life.  He was Castiel's friend.  He is his friend. 

And when Dean had finally opened up to him, Castiel shot him down.

Castiel reflects back to that morning, remembering that Dean seemed a little off.  Right after their fight, Castiel had chalked it up to Dean feeling guilty about using him, but now he isn't so sure. 

Just when he feels the rims of his eye lids start to well up, the door to his bedroom opens.

"Cas?" 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a red head of hair peeking through the door.  "Anna."

His sister flips on the light, then walks in quietly to sit on the edge of the bed next to him.  She brushes some of his hair away from his forehead, then rests her palm on the bed, leaning her weight on her arm.  "How are you?  Sorry we didn't get to talk much this morning."

"That's all right.  Thank you for coming into town."

"Of course.  When mom called me and told me you passed out at school, I about flipped."  She chuckles softly, Castiel moving to sit up against the pillows.  "It's been way too long since I've talked to you.  I'm so sorry, Cas, I'm a bad sister."

Castiel's lip quirks up and he shakes his head.  "No you're not, Anna.  It's alright.  You're busy.  I'm glad you're successful."

"Thanks,” She smiles, then scoots to sit on the bed facing Castiel.  "Anyway, I'm here to talk about you.  How was school today?  I’m guessing by the whole sitting-alone-in-a-dark-room-thing that it didn’t go so well." 

Castiel shifts under Anna's troubled gaze.  It's been ages since anyone other than Dean has asked about his problems.  Anna was probably the last to do it.  He gulps, unsure of what to say, so his sister breaks the heavy silence.

"I saw Dean this morning!  I feel really bad about not introducing myself, but well, things are always crazy here in the mornings.  Mom told me about how he took care of you though, he sounds really sweet.  And he's so cute, Cas.  Way to go."  She winks and pinches him.  "Is he coming by later?"

She seems so happy for him, so excited, but Castiel feels like he's going to crumble and die.  He winces at her words, sucking in a shaking breath as he draws his knees up to his chest and hugs them, resting his forehead on them.

"I take that as a no.  What happened?"  Castiel feels her hand clasp one of his, so he looks up, feeling hot tears well up. 

"He..."  Castiel searches, knowing a bit now how Dean must've felt when wanting to explain things to him without getting called nuts.  The more Castiel thinks about it, the more guilt twists inside of him.  Everything Castiel revealed about himself, Dean never once looked down at him for it, never made him feel crazy or weak.  Not until that last conversation they had, which Castiel is thinking more and more that it might have been the truth.  He looks up and swallows down the tightness in his throat the best he can so he can speak.  "We fought this morning.  We had sex for the first time last night, then this morning I thought he was lying to me about something and that he’d just used me so I...told him never to speak to me again."

"Oh, Cas," Anna whispers mournfully, squeezing his hand.  "What did he lie about?"

"It doesn't matter anymore.  The more I think about it...the more I think he wasn't lying.  And still I told him that...I don't know what to do, Anna."

His sister moves to sit snug next to him on the bed.  "You’re in love with him, aren’t you?"

Castiel swallows again, the word making his face hot and heart clench.  "I...am.  But how can I be?  I've only known him for four days now."

Anna chuckles fondly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.  "Love doesn't have a set time, Cas.  Sometimes it's really gradual, sometimes it's instant.  If you feel it, you feel it.  It doesn't matter when."

Castiel nods, absorbing her words.  That’s just another thing to add to the growing list of things that make Dean’s story plausible.  If Dean had come from the future, and perhaps had already met Castiel, or more than that, is in love with him in the future…then the fast pace of their relationship would make a little more sense.  Anna says that the amount of time doesn’t matter, but Castiel can’t help but think that a possibility. 

The idea of meeting Dean in the future makes a heated chill run through him.  Then he shakes his head.

“I think I’m going crazy.  I have no idea what to do.”

“Sounds like love to me.” Anna giggles, nudging Castiel with her shoulder.

Castiel just heaves a sigh, “What do I do, Anna?”

“What do you wanna do?”

Shutting his eyes, Castiel thinks.  What does he want to do?  More than anything, what he wants to do is see Dean.  He wants to take back everything he said.  He wants to use Dean’s time traveling powers to go back to where that conversation never happened. 

Pain stabs his heart when a realization hits him.  Their conversation this morning could very well have been their last.  Dean did say he was going to leave soon.  He never showed up to class…he may have already left.  Castiel might not see him for another ten years.  Or ever again.  Castiel jerks with a gasp, startling his sister.

He has to see Dean.

“I have to see Dean.” 

“Okay,” Anna nods, looking pleased.  “Where does he live?  I’ll drive you there.”

“No, no, I’ll go myself.  I’ll take my bike.”

Anna hugs him, tells him good luck, then leaves him to get ready.  He washes his face, hoping the redness will go away before he gets to Dean. 

Though, he’s not even sure where Dean is.  The only place he’s ever heard of Dean being is at the school.  But…he wasn’t there today.  He could be anywhere.

Castiel looks in the bathroom mirror, squints at himself, then sighs, hanging his head.  He feels his lips quiver, tears just on the brink again, but he holds them back.  But the thoughts keep coming.  Dean could be gone, he could’ve taken off right after their fight.  Castiel wouldn’t blame him with the way he acted. 

This whole time Dean has been so kind, friendly, helpful, and _loving,_ whether he would say the word or not.  He took care of Castiel far more than he ever even considered caring for himself, and if his story is at all true, if he is just in this town to get rid of the ghost that’s haunting _him_ to _save him_ , then Castiel has truly screwed up.

Castiel slams his fist on the sink.  Was he just being over sensitive this morning or something?  He had been incredibly overwhelmed about losing his virginity to _Dean_.  Dean who is this picture perfect image of everything Castiel has ever wanted and more.  Dean who seems fictional.  Dean who made himself seem even more frustratingly fictional with his time traveling ghost buster story.  

But Dean _is_ real.  He isn’t just some fantasy; his words were real, his hugs and kisses were real.  He is Castiel’s real friend, he was his real boyfriend, and now he’s leaving.  Or already gone.  And Castiel is left confused and unsure and feeling more alone than ever.

That’s when it hits him.

If Dean is still here, he is alone too.  Truly alone.


	13. Ghost May Care

"You see, Dean,” Jimmy finally continues, his voice entirely too casual.  "I was a miserable bastard growing up.  I was either ignored, or picked on.  Still don't know which was worse.  The girl I liked never gave me the time of day.  Amelia.  She went to my church...went out with this meathead Roger.  I hated that jerk."

"Well boo friggin’ hoo."  Dean grunts, still pinned to the wall.  Jimmy's only response is to clench his cold, invisible tentacles around him tighter, but it doesn't stop Dean.  "Everyone gets bullied.  Everyone has to see their crush with someone else.  You didn't have to off yourself.  What about your family?"

"You think I didn't consider them first?  Why do you think I stayed behind as a ghost, Dean?"  Finally, Jimmy turns his gaze towards Dean. 

"To spy on naked people in the locker room?"  Dean quips in an attempt to seem uncaring, but he can't help but stare.  The guy is the spitting image of Cas, but beyond the physical, they could not be more different.  Jimmy's mannerisms, his tone, his attitude, they're nothing like Cas at all.  Granted, spending so much time as a vengeful spirit can twist the personality, but Dean imagines even before that Jimmy was very different from Cas.  The clenching around his heart overshadows the force squeezing at his body for just a moment.  There is no one like Cas.

Jimmy chuckles darkly.  "No, actually.  It was to see whether or not my family truly cared for me.  I thought it would offer me at least a little solace to see them sad over my passing.  Alas, after just a few months they were completely over it."

"What?" Dean chokes, "You expected them to cry over your forever?  The hell would you want that for your family?"

Jimmy turns his body completely to face Dean, clenching his icy aura around him tight enough to shut him up.  It squeezes at Dean's neck, pins his head back.  Dean struggles against it uselessly; his body can barely move a fraction of an inch. 

"It doesn't matter now.  That's not what you're here to discuss anyway, is it?"  Jimmy does that smug up-tilt of his head as he crosses his arms.  "Let's talk about little Cas.

"I roamed these halls for years, Dean.  Decades.  My anger, my remorse festering...which, as you know, only makes a ghost stronger.  But, eventually, so much time slipped by that I began to lose all sense of it.  I just watched it pass.  I grew numb.

"Until Castiel arrived.

"I couldn't believe it.  Here was this young, bright, perfect, new version of me.  When I saw him...I saw a second chance at life.   But, it turned out he was much like me.  Closed off, isolated.  Unlike me, he was downright unfriendly.  Made no effort to make any friends.  It angered me; here was this new chance for me to have the life I wanted.  To be happy.  And this kid wearing my mug was doing a piss poor job. 

"So I watched him, I waited, then I stepped in."

Dean groans, putting all his might into trying to move, but it's futile.  He wants to pounce on this guy and rip his face off.  How dare he act like Cas is nothing more than shot number two at his life?  He wants to tell Jimmy that just because they look the same, just because they're relatives, it doesn't mean he can orchestrate Cas' life to his liking. 

He gets even angrier thinking about how he was only a pawn in Jimmy's insane plan.  He hates the idea that anything about he and Cas' relationship was premeditated.  Was disingenuous.  Dean shuts his eyes tight and grunts again.

Whether or not Jimmy had a hand in their meeting doesn't matter.  Dean still cares for Cas, he still wants to save him.  He doesn't think for a second that Cas needs fixing; Cas is awesome.  He refuses to let this crazy dick use him like a puppet.  Not for a second longer.

He _has_ to get down from here.

 

Castiel pedals quickly to the school, the cool evening breeze a reminder of he and Dean's date from yesterday.  For some reason, the thought makes him smile.  It makes him pedal faster; he wants so badly for Dean to still be around.  He wants to make things better.

Because if Dean has to leave, he wants to make sure that he'll see him again. 

Though he smiles, there's still that tightness in his throat that's been there nearly all day.  The constant ache of it has been exhausting, but he hopes that seeing Dean will relieve that pain.  At least a little.  He wonders if Dean is hurting too, and if he is, that it isn't hurting too badly.

When he finally arrives at the school, his heart sinks.  The parking lot is empty of cars, the building's lights are all out.  It looks completely dark inside.  Still, Castiel doesn't know how Dean's been going about getting into the school every night, so he might be in there.  He has to check. 

He chains his bike up, then heaves a deep sigh, squaring his shoulders.  He crosses his fingers and prays that Dean be there. 

To his surprise, the front doors are open.  He pushes the door open gradually and freezes immediately after taking his first step inside.  He's overcome with that familiar icy, dark feeling.  The entire building is thick with it.  That rumbling, thunderous noise is low, but constant.  He doesn't feel anything squeezing him, but he knows this is the same presence.  He's never felt it so huge like this before.

He gasps.

If Dean is here, he's in trouble. 

 

"I can tell you're getting angry with me, Dean, but my plan was not so selfish as you think.  I want the best for Cas.  If I see him happy, I can finally move on.  Is that so wrong?"

Though his face looks mournful and sincere, he still doesn't let up on his grip on Dean.  In fact, it only gets tighter.  Dean can't think past the anger, and soon, it fizzles out with the rest of his thoughts as his air is cut off.  He blacks out. 

"That's why it's just such a shame that you've failed."

 

When Castiel starts running it feels like he's running in a dream.  Like his legs are moving sluggishly through a thick, freezing swamp. 

"Dean!"  He screams, trudging through the thickness.  It gives way, only slightly.  He pushes through, his strong, runner's legs giving him the advantage.  He feels tears streak down his face as he runs, their heat a stark contrast to the school's subzero temperature.  He runs harder and harder, shouting Dean's name both out loud and in his mind.

Finally, he reaches the end of the hallway, his feet screeching on the tile as he stops to turn left.  When he sees what’s in front of him, his heart seizes. 

"Hello Castiel."

Castiel blinks, dumbstruck.  This man looks exactly like him, but colorless.  It's like looking at his own corpse.  He takes a cautious step forward.

The air around him is even thicker in this hall.  So thick and cold his eyes move slowly.  Or, perhaps they move so slowly because he's petrified of what they're about to find. 

He sees papers scattered about across the floor, right in front of the figure.  A foot or so beyond them is a shotgun. 

He swallows heavily as his eyes travel upward along the lockers to the figure's left. 

Dean is there.  He's pinned up, pressed up against the lockers.  He looks crucified. 

He looks dead.

"Dean!" Castiel screams in horror, before taking off running.  It takes no effort now, his legs move fluidly, powerfully.  However, once gets close and Dean's lifeless body in clear view, his knees give out.  He skids across the floor, sliding on the papers to pass right by the figure, who stands unfazed, unmoving. 

Without thought, he grabs the shotgun, twists his body to point the gun at that back of what looks like his head, but it's not his head.  It can't be his head.  He pulls the trigger.

The figure sizzles away like burning up pieces of ripped cloth and ash.  Castiel watches it, clutching onto the gun and panting, eyes wide in disbelief and panic.  Then, Dean begins to fall to the ground.

Castiel immediately chucks the gun to the side, then dashes across the floor to catch Dean, his arms wrapping around his chest. 

Dean feels deathly cold and limp.  He shakes him, feeling the tears and sobs he's been holding back all day start to rip out of him.

"Dean!  Dean,” He shakes him and shakes him, hugging him and pulling him further into his lap.  "Dean, please, please,"

He still doesn't stir, his arms and legs hang loosely.  Castiel pulls Dean's back flush against his chest and hangs his head to rest on Dean's shoulder.  He repeats Dean's name between sobs, hoping eventually he'll hear him. 

"I've never seen you so emotional." 

Castiel gasps as his head jerks up.  His eyes go wide again, and they sting with tears.  This thing, this ghost, it crouches down in front of them.  It's expression is so casual, a somewhat sarcastic look of remorse on his face. 

"Get away,” Castiel chokes out as he hugs Dean in closer.

"Relax, I'm through messing with him now that you're here."  He gives Castiel a patronizing look, quirking a brow.  "You know he's not dead, right?"

"Then whatever you did to him, undo it.  Wake him up."

"He'll wake up eventually, he's just passed out.  'Sides, you're keepin' him nice and warm."  He reaches out to touch Dean's forehead, but Castiel flinches away.  "Alright, alright.  Anyway, I kinda need him quiet for now so you and I can talk."

The ghost stands up, dusting off his hands.  The heavy, cold air seems to move up with him.  Castiel's eyes follow him, but he doesn't move from his spot on the floor.

The papers start levitating off the floor, floating gracefully towards the ghost's outstretched hand.  He gathers them all neatly, straightening them out.  Castiel watches the entire time in shock.

"Who are you?"  He finally asks gruffly.

The ghost turns to him, handing Castiel the papers.  "I'm Jimmy."

Castiel apprehensively lets one of his arms leave Dean to take the papers, immediately returning it to across Dean's chest.  He looks at the paper in his hands, moving his other hand to quickly adjust his glasses as his eyes travel rapidly across the words.  "Jimmy Novak."

"Yep."  Jimmy moves to sit in front of Castiel, back up against the lockers.  "Born 1885, died 1903." 

"You killed yourself."  Castiel says as he continues to read the articles on him.  "Why?"

"'Cause I couldn't hack my lonely ass life like you could, Cas.  I just felt darker and darker until I couldn't do it anymore."

Looking up from the paper, Castiel stares at the ghost, stunned.  Even though he looks exactly like him, sans the glasses, he can't imagine himself ever ending his own life.  Especially now that he has Dean.

"That's why...that's why you brought Dean here?" 

"Bingo."  Jimmy clicks his tongue as he points a finger-gun at him.  "After watching you for all these years, it wasn't hard to figure out what you like.  The 'bad boy' types.  I always hated guys like that myself, but to each his own."

Castiel looks down at Dean and feels heat prickle his face.  "I don't understand.  You used Dean...and me...to what?"

Jimmy lets out an exasperated sigh.  "What's so hard to understand?  I've haunted this school for ages, then I see you.  You look exactly like me, you have the same problems...to me you are my second chance.  I plucked Dean from 2013 to now to show you that you can be happy.  You can have friends, lovers.  You can do life better than I did."

"So,” Castiel swallows heavily, that tightness still present.  "Dean really is from the future?"

"Man you sure do have a one-track mind.  Yes, he's from the future.  2013.  He meets you that year, you guys get it on in the back seat of his car, I make sure it meant something to him, then, I brought him here." 

Castiel feels his entire body flush and shiver.  Dean was telling the truth.  More than that, Dean already had feelings for Castiel before he'd arrived in this time.  Real feelings.  It was always more than just sex for him.  Castiel curses himself for ever thinking otherwise of him. 

He drops the papers, then squeezes Dean again, his fingers curling into that brown leather jacket.  Dean was transported from the future by a ghost, and instead of finding a way to get back to his family, he took care of Castiel.  He befriended him, tried to protect him from this ghost, not even knowing if he'd ever get back to his own time.  In such wild circumstances, he put Castiel, who in this time was a stranger to him, before himself.  He put Castiel before himself every step of the way.

His glasses smash against his face as he presses into Dean's shoulder again. 

"Oh, don't start sobbing again.  I told you he isn't dead." 

Castiel glowers at Jimmy from over the rim of his glasses.  "How were you even able to take Dean through time?"

"Finally you're asking the important questions.  I mean, I knew you'd be into Dean but I didn't think you two would be full on obsessed with each other."  He chuckles as he rolls his eyes, turning his body to face Castiel, sitting cross legged.  "When you've been a ghost for as long as I have, time starts to lose meaning.  Time, matter, I stopped caring about any of it.  Physical boundaries no longer exist for me, Cas.  Not to brag, but you've felt how powerful I am.  Time travel's as simple as a thought for me."

"That's,” Castiel shakes his head, trying to make reason of his words.  "That doesn't make any sense."

"I'm not a physical being, Cas.  The same rules don't apply to me.  You'll just have to use that noggin of yours to figure it out."  Jimmy reaches out and taps Castiel's head, and it feels like being poked with dry ice.  "You are a physics nut, after all."

"But if the laws of physics don't apply then... what rules am I to even use?"

"I don't know, I was always more into history than math and science."

It was Castiel's turn to groan with exasperation.  Though, he'll have to save that problem for another time.  There are more pressing matters at hand.  "So what happens now?  Will you take Dean back to his time?"

Right then, Dean stirs in Castiel's arms.  He moans sleepily, his eyes blinking and face strained.  Castiel loosens his grip, sighing with intense relief.  "Dean."

Dean shakes his head, turning slightly in Castiel's arms to look up at him.  "Cas?  Shit, Cas, are you okay?"  His jerk up to cup Castiel's cheeks as his eyes search his face and body. 

Castiel's lips quirk up in a shaky smile.  "Even now you think of me first.  I'm fine, Dean." 

"You two aren't gonna kiss now are you?  I've seen more than enough of that." 

"What the fuck?"  Dean jolts, scrambling in his jacket pockets as he stands up with wobbly legs.  "Back off, you son of a bitch."

Jimmy throws up his hands in surrender as he and Castiel both stand up. 

"It's alright, Dean,"  Castiel says, placing a hand on his shoulder.  "I don't think he means any further harm."

"My ass!"  Dean shouts, looking around for his gun.

"He's right, Dean, calm down.  Cas and I were just talking about getting you back home."

 

_Back home_.

The words echo in Dean's brain.  Is this really it?  He looks from Jimmy to Cas, who looks oddly serene.  Almost dopey, even.  He's giving Dean this lop sided grin that just keeps growing, but his eyes are red-rimmed and face blotchy, like he had been crying. 

Dean's own expression softens, somehow soothed by Cas' look.  They just stare at each other, Dean feeling so much inside of him, so many different emotions, but unable to decide what to do with any of them. 

Jimmy clears his throat.  "Uh, it's not quite tearful goodbye time yet, boys.  Still a few things to cover."

Nodding, Dean turns back toward the ghost.  "That's right.  Like me torching your bones and sending you on your long overdue way."

"Actually," Jimmy rolls his eyes, "I'm thinking it'd be a better idea if Cas took care of that."

"What?"  Dean and Castiel say in unison.

"Listen, here's how it's gonna go.  I'm gonna take Dean back to the night I pulled him from.  Then, when I get back, I'll take Castiel to my grave, then he can get rid of my bones or whatever, and that'll be the end of this."  He looks down to the floor, finally showing a touch of remorse. "The end of me."

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan I can trust.  You really think I'm gonna leave Cas here with you?  Like you're really gonna just watch while he ganks you?"

"While I what?"  Cas questions, his expression growing more and more confused.

"It's either that, or you stay here, stuck in this time forever.  Your choice, Dean."

"Fine then, I'll stay."  Dean says immediately. 

"What?  Dean, no."  Cas grabs Dean's arms and turns him so they're facing each other.  "Don't.  You've done enough for me.  Jimmy and I talked while you were out.  I believe him."

"Thank you."  Jimmy says with smug indignation.

Dean glares at him, then looks back to Cas.  Dean doesn't know how long he was out, but given how calm Cas was when he finally came to, maybe Jimmy did square things between them.  He can't say he trusts the guy, but Cas isn't hurt.  And if he goes back on this plan, when Dean's back in 2013 he can and _will_ turn Jimmy's bones to ash.  And piss in the flames.

"Alright then.  Deal."  Dean concedes.  

Cas nods, then tilts his head.  Dean feels a thousand times better seeing that simple quirk; seeing that instead of the weird, opposite way that Jimmy does it.  He knits his brows then asks Dean, "What am I supposed to do to Jimmy's bones again?"

"Uh, well, you gotta dig up his grave, pour salt on the bones, some kerosene, then light em on fire.  Burn em up completely.  Then get the hell outta dodge before the cops come."  Dean looks around at the photocopies on the floor, then picks up the one he needs when he finds it.  "Here's where he's buried."

"Alright."  Cas whispers, taking the paper.

"Awkward."  Jimmy says, earning a snort from Dean.

Cas folds the paper and tucks it into his back pocket.  Then he clears his throat and adjusts his glasses, slowly looking up at Dean.  It pulls at Dean's heartstrings before Cas even says it.  "So this is it, then?"

Instead of responding with words, Dean gets up close and takes Cas' hands.  They both look down at them, and Cas squeezes.  "What am I supposed to do without you for ten whole years?"

Dean looks up at that, releasing one of his hands to tilt Cas' head up by the chin.  "You just keep bein' your awesome self, Cas.  Just let everyone love you like I know they will.  Just be you."

He brings Cas' other hand up to kiss it, then the three make their way out the back of the building to Dean's car.  Once they're standing by the driver's side, Dean and Cas pause to give each other one last look.  Jimmy stands at the door, looking away to give them their privacy. 

"Well, see you in ten years, babe."  Dean winks.  "Don't go changin'."

Jimmy snickers, and Castiel laughs, shaking his head.  "Thank you for everything, Dean."

"Nah," Dean shrugs, bashfully trying to play it down.

"No, Dean, I mean it.  Thank you.  And in ten years, I'll be right here to greet you."

"Whoa, Cas you don't have to do that.  Seriously, you don't have to wait for me."

"Well I won't be waiting right here the entire ten years."

Dean shoves him, "You know what I mean, ass.  Just live your life to the fullest, don't worry about me."

"I'll live my life, Dean.  I'll make you proud."  Cas nods self-assuredly, and Dean feels his heart nearly burst.  "And I'll meet you here when you arrive."

With a deep breath, Dean dips forward, the backs of his fingers brushing down Cas' cheek as he meets his lips for a kiss.  Cas breathes in sharp and shuddery against Dean's lips, then he wraps his arms around Dean's waist, clutches onto his jacket, and kisses him again.  Dean hugs an arm around his shoulder, his other hand grasping that soft, thick hair as they tilt their heads to give each other one last, deep kiss. 

Dean lips tremble against Cas', he feels tightness rise in his throat and moisture in his eyes, so he pulls away.  He keeps his emotions at bay to give Cas one last smile, a wink, and a kiss on the cheek before getting into the car.  He doesn't look at Cas again until his car is pulled back far enough to where his full body is in view.  He's turned toward the car, standing soldier-like, eyes on Dean's. 

Jimmy flickers out of sight, and Dean can feel his presence in the car as the air cools drastically.  Though, his face still feels hot and the rims of his eyes sting with tears.  Finally, he tears his eyes away from Cas and turns the car around, peeling out of the parking lot. 

Suddenly, emotions flood him.  Excitement, fear, the adrenaline of his uncertainty rushes through him.  He has no idea what's going to be waiting for him on the other side when Jimmy zaps him back to the future.  Will his Dad and Sam be there?  Will they be alright?  Will they have even noticed that he was gone? 

What will have changed?  Anything?

There's an ache in his heart that Dean tries desperately to ignore.  Will Cas really be there waiting? 

He shoves the thought away, or at least he tries.  He doesn't want to expect that, doesn't want to expect anything of Cas.  Cas doesn't need to be waiting for him, he should be living his own life.  Hell, he could get married, have a bunch of kids.  Have an ace career.  If that's what makes Cas happy, even if he's forgotten all about Dean, then that's what Dean wants. 

Really, Dean thinks, Cas should forget about Dean.  If Cas really wants to live a golden, successful, happy life, he shouldn't have a damn thing to do with Dean.  Sweet, smart Cas.  He should stay as far away from Dean as possible.

Dean's life is chaos, it's shit, and it's only gonna get worse.  It's never gonna change.  The white picket fence thing, that's never gonna be for him.  Sammy might get his shot at it, he's a brilliant kid, but not Dean.  He's born and raised a hunter.  He's stuck in it forever.

He'll never have Cas involved in this life.  Never put him in this sort of danger again.  It'll finally be gone, Jimmy will finally leave him alone.  Dean wouldn't dream of pulling Cas back into this shit again.

No amount of reasoning makes the idea of never seeing Cas again hurt any less. 

"Fuck!" Dean shouts, slamming his fist against the steering wheel.  Just when the tears start to stream down his face, he realizes he's to the same spot where he was first flashed back in time. 

Then the world goes white around him. 

His vision comes back again and he swerves, just like before, tires screeching loudly across the pavement.  It's night this time though.  The temperature is normal, feels warmer than it did the first time around.  No Jimmy in the air beside him. 

He wipes the tears off his face with his jacket sleeve, then turns the car around in the empty street.  He starts to drive towards the motel, but Cas' last words ring in his head. 

_"I'll meet you here when you arrive."_

Cas would be at the school. 

Deep down, Dean knows he won't be there, but still, he heads to Pontiac High School anyway.  On the way, he calls his dad, trying his hardest to swallow down any trace of crying.

"Dean?"  His father's sleepy voice is a relief. 

"Dad," 

"You alright?  Where are ya?"

"I'm heading towards the high school." 

"Why?  I thought we scratched the school of the list.  Place ain't haunted, remember?"  Dean can hear his dad sitting up in bed.  He can envision him rubbing his eyes, probably looking over at Sam.  "Or is this about those messages in Sam's locker and the motel wall?  You figure something out about them?"

Dean blinks, confused for a split second before he understands what his dad's talking about.  In all his preoccupation with Cas he'd completely forgotten about how he carved those notes for his family to see.  "Oh yeah, uh, I'll explain those in the morning.  This is about something else."

"Dean,"

"Is Sammy alright?"

"Yeah, of course.  He's asleep.  Which is what you should be doin'."

"Yeah, yeah, I know.  Lemme just look around the school real quick, then I'll be back, okay?"  Dean manages, his voice only cracking a few times.  His dad says okay, but Dean can tell he knows something is up.  The three of them know each other too well.

Dean's heart thrums with anticipation as he nears the school.  It beats so hard he can feel it pulsing in his ears.  Chills run up and down his spine, his legs start to tremble.  He clenches his fists on the steering wheel and bites his lip, but it does nothing to stifle the vibrations inside him. 

Finally, he gets to the school.  He can't bring himself to look around the parking lot too thoroughly, not yet.  He keeps his eyes straight ahead of him as he pulls in to park.  Without thinking, he steps out of the car, shuts the door, all the while his eyes are shut.  He takes a deep breath, lets his whole body shiver one last time, then opens them. 

He's standing on the side walk, the parking lot behind him.  The inside of the building is dark, but he can tell the lights in the lot are all on.  They never were before. 

Slowly, he starts to turn around, his eyes spanning the lot.  Once he's facing it completely, he stills aside from his head that turns to look at the rest of the lot. 

It's empty.

He even chances a look at the bike rack, but there's nothing there either. 

His heart thuds, punching his chest and his ears.  He sucks in a shaking breath and clenches his fists. 

That's when he realizes he's made a grave mistake.  He's in the front of the school.  When he left Cas, he was parked in the back.  Cas said he'd be right there; he must've meant in the back.  He could be there waiting and Dean is just standing here like a dope.

He sprints around the campus to the back, biting his lip, trying to suppress his smile.  Trying to fight back all the hope that's risen in his chest. 

Once he's there, he slows to a stop, then looks around again.  This lot is empty too. 

This time, though, it feels even emptier.  Even though the lamps light up the lot, the whole place feels darker.  There's no more ghost, but it feels colder.  Everything feel still, stagnant.  The inside of Dean's chest feels hollow, just as empty as everything around him looks. 

He ducks his head and laughs, dejected. 

This is what he wanted, isn't it?  He wanted Cas to move on, wanted him to forget.  It's for the best.  Cas will be safe, he’ll be happy.  He doesn't need Dean, doesn't want him.

That's when Dean's tears come.  They choke out of out him, he sputters so hard his hand moves automatically to clasp over his mouth.  He squeezes his eyes shut and just sobs, let's himself cry.  Though his hand still covers his mouth, he still lets it all out.

No one's around to see it anyway.

Dean can't think of a time he's ever felt this heartbroken.  It's confusing; it's nonsense that he feels this way.  He doesn't understand why it hurts so much.  How long had be known Cas, really?  Not even a month.  How is it possible that someone so guarded and hard as Dean gave his heart away to someone he barely knew? 

"Fucking idiot, Dean,"  He garbles into his hand.  He feels so stupid, so careless.  He should never have let things with Cas get past that first time he called him 'babe'. 

He should never have let himself fall into the abyss of those welcoming blue eyes.  He shouldn't have let himself feel for Cas, or let Cas feel for him.  But Cas was so sweet, so tragically lonely.  Dean understood what that was like, to be alone.  He has his father, he has Sam, but that's not the same as having a friend.  As having a lover. 

Cas accepted him without a second thought.  That's something Dean has never experienced, and likely never will again.  No, he knows he never will again.  He'll never let this happen again.

His knees buckle as he takes in one last deep, deep breath.  He pulls his hand away from his face, balls it up into a fist, then slams it onto his thigh before wiping it off on his jeans.  He wipes his face with the backs of his hands, then pockets them, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking the sadness away.  He keeps his eyes closed for a moment longer as he takes the first step back to the other side of the building.

Then, he sees lights flash through his closed eye lids. 

He opens them to see a silver sedan pulling up in the parking lot.  It parks in the middle of the lot and gets turned off abruptly, the whole car shaking with the force of the stop.  The driver's side door opens.

Dean stands shock-still, his eyes wide as he stares at this mystery vehicle. 

Out of the car, a man gets out, his body haloed by the streetlamps.  He's wearing a dark suit, a blue tie that's swinging around his neck as he stands up straight, and a tan trench coat.  His hair's dark, wispy and styled.  He's got a hint of a 5 o'clock shadow, and he has big, blue eyes piercing through a worried expression.  Dean's heart flips and his mouth goes dry.  This man is completely gorgeous.  It's unreal.  Dean feels like he's hallucinating. 

"Dean?"

The voice is so familiar.  It's too familiar.  It can't be.  It _can't_ be.

Dean swallows, then chances it.

"Cas?" 

The man hurdles towards him, his blue tie flying up behind his shoulder, his trench coat flapping.  He stops right in front of Dean, his expression is one Dean's never seen him wear before, but there is no denying it.  It's really him.

"Dean,” He says, out of breath.  "It's really you.  I can't believe it."

Without another second for Cas to disappear, for him to become the dream Dean fears he might be, Dean surges forward and plasters his lips to his.  He swings an arm around his shoulders, then his other arm comes around to curl his fingers into that soft, thick hair. 

Dean doesn't breathe until he feels Cas kiss back, until he feels him lean into the kiss, press into it, hug his arms around Dean's back and clutch his jacket.  They hold each other tighter and tighter, gasping into their mouths as they don't stop kissing, not yet. 

Dean's lungs burn, his heart's going a mile a minute, pounding louder than it's ever pounded before.  Cas feels warmer than he did, he tastes sweeter.  He feels stronger, safer, he feels more secure.  Dean can feel it all in their kiss, he can feel it all in the way Cas' strong, sure arms are holding him.  He can feel it in the way his sturdy legs are keeping them standing when Dean's feel like rubber. 

He can feel that he's shaking all over, and he's just waiting until he turns completely into jello.  He's melting into Cas, putting all his weight into him, but Cas just keeps holding him up, keeps them both upright.  Dean puts his all into the kiss, into the sliding and suck of his lips and twirling of his tongue.  He wants this kiss to be worth the wait.  He wants it to have been worth Cas, amazing, awesome fucking Cas waiting all this time.  He wants to reward Cas for actually being here just like he said he would.

For becoming the one strong and secure thing Dean's ever experienced in his life.  For being someone he can trust, someone he can cry in front of, someone who has never judged him, or made him feel small.  Dean wants to show Cas how much that means to him with this one kiss, because Dean damn sure can't do it with words. 

Once he feels like his lungs are about to pop, he pulls away with a shrill, quaky gasp.  Cas gasps too, not letting Dean part too far.  He cups the back of Dean's head and pushes it forward to rest their foreheads together.  Dean lets it happen, he wants it to, but he's still too rubbery do it himself.  His eyes stay closed for just a moment as he catches his breath, then he finally opens them.

He sees big, shining blue eyes and a big, spreading smile looking at him.  They both breathe out a laugh, Dean feeling how wide he himself is smiling now. 

Cas moves in for one more warm kiss, then pulls away, their arms still holding each other, but heads no longer quite touching. He's still smiling, but his mouth quivers a little, his expression giving way to remorse. "Dean, I am so sorry I'm late. My flight was delayed, then my luggage took forever, and renting a car took even longer. But I don't think I've ever driven so fast in my life."

"It's okay, Cas."  Dean breathes, "I'm just - I'm glad you're here.  You know you didn't have to do this."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Cas does that classic head tilt that's started to make Dean's heart leap automatically.  "Of course I did.  I told you I would.  I've been waiting for ten years to do this."

Dean swallows, hugging Cas' shoulders tighter.  "Thank you."  He whispers, rubbing his face along Cas' cheek, then settling his head there, next to his. 

"Of course.  Of course, Dean."  Cas squeezes him back.  "God, I was so worried.  I mean, as much as I've studied time travel, as near as I've gotten to figuring it out, I still didn't know how exactly this was going to work out.  I could never know for certain if you were going to be here safely."

Dean shuts his eyes, just enjoying listening to the sound of Cas' rumbling voice in his ear.

"I considered finding you before this exact date, just because I missed you so much, but...you would've been too young.  You wouldn't have known me yet.  But now that I'm here, I'm glad I waited.  I'm so glad you're here.  I can't even begin to tell you how much I missed you."

"I missed you too, Cas."

Cas laughs at that, just a small adoring chuckle.  He doesn't say that Dean didn't have to wait nearly as long, doesn't say that Dean's trip was instant, that he didn't have to feel what it was like to be without him for ten years.  He doesn't make Dean feel bad, he just fondly laughs, and rubs his back. 

As Dean snuggles against Cas' face, he realizes something's missing.  He pulls back to meet Cas' eyes then asks, "Hey, where are the glasses?" 

"Oh, right," Cas starts, like he'd totally forgotten them as well.  "I got laser surgery years ago.  Do I look strange to you without them?"

"No, God no.  You looks great, Cas," Dean says, eyes moving all across Cas' face.  "I mean, seriously.  Damn."

Cas ducks his head and bites his lip, and Dean can tell he's blushing, even in this darker area of the lot.  Cas' hands move to cup Dean's cheeks, Dean loosens his grip on Cas' shoulders to give him room.  "So do you, Dean.  Even more beautiful than I remember."

"Alright, alright," Dean says, embarrassed, but Cas just kisses it away.  They stare at each other again, Cas' arms loosely hanging around Dean's neck and Dean's hands clasped on Cas' hips, underneath the big, tan trench coat.  After a few minutes of simply admiring each other, Dean breaks the silence.  "So, what are you up to now?"

"I head the physics department at Stanford University." 

"Holy shit!" Dean shouts, taken aback.  He feels a strange spike pierce his heart.  "Gone and made yourself out of my league in every way, didn't ya?"

Dean laughs, but he winces a bit at his own words.  He should be praising Cas, not making him feel bad just because he did exactly what Dean hoped he would.  He made himself a better life.  An amazing life.  Given himself the success Dean knew he could earn. 

He winces again at the utterly confused look on Cas' face. "Dean, that's not true at all.  It's..." He shakes his head incredulously, "It's the exact opposite, actually."

"Huh?"  Dean responds, feeling dumber by the second.

"I made myself worthy of you.  At least, that was my goal."

Dean's face just screws up even more, completely lost.  "Cas, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Dean, you save lives.  You put your own life in incredible danger to save people from unimaginable things.  And you expect no credit for it, no reward, nothing.  You do it because you were raised to do it.  Because it's second nature for you to put everyone's well-being ahead of your own. 

"You were thrown impossibly through time and space and...when anyone else would've been going mad considering their own safety, you made it your priority to take care of me.  Without a second thought.   

"I wanted to be worthy of all of that.  Of all you put yourself through every day.  I wanted you to be proud of me, because...I'm in awe of you, Dean." 

Dean swallows and swallows, clenching his jaw.  He feels tears start to well up, but he shakes his head and sniffles, holding them back.  "Cas, shit I...I was already proud just seeing you got a new suit and a haircut.  This is just - I don't know what to say."

With a soft chuckle, Cas moves his hands to clasp either side of Dean's face.  "You don't have to say anything."  He murmurs, then leans in for a warm, lingering kiss.  They stay that way for a while, lips locked, holding each other. 

Dean pulls away when an idea strikes him.  "Hey, wanna meet my family?"


	14. The Time Allotted Is Infinite

“Dad, Sammy,” Dean starts, smiling adoringly at his groggy and no doubt irritated father and brother, considering it’s the middle of the night. They’re both squinting in the abruptly flipped on light, John standing up by the bed Sam’s sitting on cross-legged. Dean resists the urge to leap toward them and hug them silly, knowing he’d seem even more insane than he does already, but seeing them in the motel he left them in is such a huge relief. “This is Castiel Novak.”

He smiles almost gleefully as he turns to Cas. Cas, however, is smiling somewhat and fidgeting awkwardly. Dean squeezes his hand, and Cas looks to him, his expression softening as he squeezes back.

“Uh, okay,” Sam drags out skeptically. “Nice to meet you Mr. Novak.”

“Yeah, uh, nice to meet you, Castiel was it?” John says gruffly, over annunciating every syllable of Cas’ name.

“Please, call me Cas.” He says as he shakes both their hands, and Dean beams.

“Dean,” John starts, rubbing his eyes, “I’m not even gonna ask _why_ this couldn’t wait ‘til morning, but I am gonna ask that any further conversation with Cas here waits until I’ve had my coffee and I’m wearin’ pants.”

“Yes sir.” Dean nods, “We’ll be on our way. G’night, Sammy.”

He tugs Cas towards the door, making him stumble as they’re turned around. He hears Sam snort behind them and his dad mumble a curse word or two. As he opens the door and pulls Cas out with him, his dad hollers, “Hey, we’re leavin’ town first thing tomorrow!”

Dean just goes on pulling Cas down the side walk of the motel to the lobby, shoving inside. There’s a burly old man at the desk, leaning back in the chair and snoring underneath a newspaper. Dean yanks Cas towards the desk and rings the bell.

The guy jolts awake, taking a minute to orient himself before getting Cas set up with a room. The second he hands Cas the keys, Dean takes Cas’ hand again and pulls him out the door. Before he can barrel up the stairs to find Cas’ room, Cas stops him.

“Dean, slow down.” He pulls Dean toward him, into his arms. “Slow down. We have all the time in the world now.”

Dean lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, then smiles and nods, blushing. “You’re right. Sorry. But wait, what about work? Don’t you need to get back?”

“No,” Cas answers, a sly smile on his face. “I’ve planned for this far in advance. My classes will be covered by my TA’s for the rest of the semester.”

“Oh. Awesome.” Dean looks down bashfully. Suddenly it’s jarred him that Cas is his older self now. He has a career and he’s confident in it. He doesn’t even look that much different from his younger self, not as drastically different as he did the first time around. Cas lifts his chin up, bringing him out of his thoughts with a soft kiss. Then, they head up to Cas’ room slowly, hand in hand.

 

 

Once they get to Castiel’s room, Castiel excuses himself to get something from his car. He abates Dean’s immediate worried look with about ten or fifteen kisses, telling him to just get comfortable and relax, that he'll be right back. He even hangs his trench coat up on the rack before leaving.

The moment he shuts the door, he starts jogging down the concrete hall and down the stairs to his car. He pulls out his luggage from the trunk, slams the door shut then runs straight back to the room. He flushes, his heart races, and mind swims with a million different thoughts. His smile is insuppressible.

He’s with Dean again.

It’s unbelievable. It’s even more unbelievable that Dean’s here, that he exists, than it was ten years ago. In fact, there were times over the past decade that he wasn’t sure that Dean had really happened. In the chaos of that last night they had together, Castiel didn’t really get anything to remember him by.

He cursed himself over that, the moment Dean’s car left his vision that night. Of course, he stared after Dean for what could’ve been hours. Time didn’t seem to matter anymore after Dean and Jimmy had destroyed its very foundation.

But eventually, he did make the journey back to his home. He walked the entire way, rolling his bike alongside him. He felt numb as he got in bed, the reality refusing to set in. Though, when he pulled the pillow Dean used the previous night up close and took a deep breath, his exhale came out in sputtered sobs.

Hugging the pillow close, he swore he’d never wash it again, that it’s his only memory of Dean, that he’s an idiot for not taking even one photo of him. He finally fell asleep, mournful, with his face buried in the pillow.

That next day at school, however, he found a very dear pencil in his locker that he’s had ever since.

Now, he’s standing outside the motel room where Dean Winchester is waiting for him. Just like he was waiting for him in that parking lot at school. Tears streaking his beautiful face. Castiel decrees that Dean will never hurt like that again.

Then, he opens up the door.

Dean perks up instantly from where he sits on the edge of the bed, his jacket and outer shirt off, as well as his boots. It warms Castiel up from the inside out.

He wheels the suitcase in, lifts it, then tosses it bouncing onto the bed. “I brought some things to show you.”

“Yeah?” Dean asks, turning to face the suitcase. “What?”

Castiel sits beside him, the suitcase between them. His hands shake just a little, like they used to around Dean, as he unzips the case. “You’ll see.”

Of course, when he opens it, the top layer is his underwear. Dean wiggles his eyebrows and growls.

“Not that,” Castiel laughs, blushing. He scoots his boxer-briefs and t-shirts out of the way and takes out a leather binder and journal. “These.”

With the two notebooks in his lap, he moves the suitcase off the bed and moves to sit right next to Dean. Dean leans into him, bracing himself with one arm that’s tucked behind Castiel’s back.

Castiel feels himself start to get nervous. It’s strange and a little disorienting. It’s that same brand of nervousness, that specific brand that he only ever felt around Dean. That heat, the dizziness. The way his leg bounces and hands tremble.

That’s all always been because of Dean, and it’s been ten years since he’s felt even the slightest bit nervous. Even presenting his dissertation for Stanford he didn’t feel this nervous.

Dean reads it, all of it, just like he’s always been able. He places a warm, calming hand atop of Castiel’s thigh and keeps it there until it settles. Then, he clasps his hand over both of Castiel’s, where they rest shaking atop the items in his lap.

Castiel lets out a deep sigh, then feels a warm, soft kiss on his temple. He sets the binder aside and hands Dean the brown leather journal. “I wrote an entry almost every day you were away. Of course, I had a lot more than just one, but…this one is a collection of the entries I’d like for you to have.”

“Really?” Dean looks at the journal, his thumbs stroking the cover. “This has shit you did from ever since I left?”

“Yes. Things I did, things I felt. A lot of different things I’d like for you to read. I thought I could give this to you to make up for the years we were apart.”

In an uncharacteristically childlike manner, Dean hugs the journal to his chest, then leans over to kiss Castiel. Castiel grasps his shoulders, kissing everything back that Dean is giving him. It makes Castiel flash back to that time they were kissing snug in that booth in his favorite restaurant in town. He whimpers at the memory of it, pressing harder into the kiss.

When they part, Dean asks, "So, what was it like? I mean, was the rest of your senior year okay?"

"Well, I did miss you terribly," Castiel admits, though he still smiles softly. The memories of that time aren't so painful anymore. "But, my friends and family helped me through it."

"Yeah? What'd you end up telling them?"

"My friends believed you moved away. Benny, Andrea, Charlie, if you remember her, she - oh, that reminds me," Castiel hops off the bed and walks over to his trench coat that's hanging on the coat rack by the door. He digs into one of its pockets, pulling something out before going back to sit in his place beside Dean. Smiling sheepishly, he shows what's in his hand to Dean.

"Holy shit!" Dean says with a laugh, taking the item in his hand.

Biting his lip, Castiel feels his cheeks flush as the two look fondly at a crinkly old photo of them kissing at a lunch table in the high school cafeteria. Castiel explains to Dean that Charlie and he became quite good friends during the short remainder of the school year. When Castiel told her that he didn't have a photo of Dean to remember him by, she more than happily gave him the one she took. Dean's old pencil was a nice keepsake, but having that photo of he and Dean brought such relief. There was no way he'd ever forget Dean, but during the times when Castiel felt particularly lonely, when he longed to be with Dean so much it hurt, the captured memory in the photo served as a great comfort.

Dean seems pleased with the photo, but even more pleased about not being in Castiel's high school yearbook. "That would've been really fucked up."

"You're right, I suppose that is for the best."

"So what about your family?" Dean asks, handing the photo back to Castiel. "They treatin' you right?"

Castiel smiles warmly, endeared by Dean's protectiveness, "Yes. I speak with them regularly. Though, Anna is the only one I told about your time traveling."

"Yeah? She believe you?"

"I think so. My studies on the subject have helped my case a bit, I think. Regardless, now that you and I are together again she'll have to believe me." Castiel gives Dean a playful smile, then nods toward the journal in Dean's lap. "All the details about what I told my friends and family are in the journals."

“Do you still have the other ones?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Can I read those too?”

Castiel blushes and chuckles with a nod. “Of course. They’re all at my home in California, but I’ll get them to you.”

Dean nods back with big, overwhelmed green eyes. Castiel doesn’t remember ever seeing Dean so boyish and sweet looking. He was always sweet, but he seems to be revealing this whole new side of himself tonight. Perhaps he is in as much disbelief as Castiel is.

They sit shoulder to shoulder on the edge of the bed, Dean’s socked foot touching Castiel’s where they rest flat on the floor. Cautiously, Dean opens the journal, running his forefinger down the pages.

“My dad keeps a journal kinda like this.”

“Oh?” Castiel asks, surprised.

“Yeah. He makes an entry after every job.”

Castiel nods. It makes him well up inside to think about how he now knows Dean’s father, and that Dean is more willing to talk about them. Now there’s no barrier keeping that information away. But, now that Dean has brought up their job, another thing Castiel has yet to mention comes up.

“Our journals are very alike then.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asks, tearing his eyes away from the book slowly to give Castiel a curious look.

“I…don’t only teach, Dean.” He reveals hesitantly. “In my spare time, I hunt.”

“You what?!” Dean shouts, jerking so hard the bed bounces.

“I’ve become a hunter myself, Dean.”

“Cas, no, no, hell no, you can’t be serious.” Dean rubs a hand on his forehead. “The one thing I wanted for you was to be as far away from that life as possible.”

“But that would mean being away from you.” Castiel’s heart pangs. He knew Dean would be unhappy with this, his need to protect those he cares about never wavering.

"Cas," Dean hangs his head and groans, his forearms resting on top of the journal and his fingers curled tight around the edge of it. "We got rid of that ghost so you'd never have to deal with that shit again. So you could move on."

"I know, Dean. I know, but - I couldn't go on knowing that young people like you were risking their lives against these creatures when I'm perfectly capable of helping." Before Dean protests, Castiel places a calming hand on his arm and continues. "I didn't just jump right into it, I did a lot of research. A lot of physical training. I may still not be as good with a gun as you, but I can hold my own in a fight. And, though it is frightening, it is beyond rewarding knowing that I can save lives. Just like you do."

With his eyes still firmly focused on the journal, Dean breathes in a deep sigh. "You're being careful? Not gettin' yourself hurt too bad?"

Castiel smiles. "Yes, Dean, I'm extremely careful. And I've never gotten gravely injured. Actually, I don't really seek out jobs like your family does, but if I catch wind of one nearby, then I take care of it."

Dean just nods, looking utterly defeated. "Alright then."

He doesn't argue, but it's clear Castiel doesn't have his full blessing. "Dean, please don't blame yourself for this. It was my choice; it's something I feel very good about. Once you read the journal, I'm sure you'll understand."

Finally, Dean meets Castiel's eyes. He looks like he wants to say something, but instead his eyes fall to the binder next to Castiel. "What's in that?"

"Oh, this is a photo album." Castiel picks it up and puts it in his lap, opening it. "After college I took a year to travel the world. I thought it might expand my understanding of time travel, but it...didn't really. There were far too many other things to see for me to do much studying."

Dean laughs at that and it's a relief. "Yeah I'll bet."

"Someday, I want to do it again. With you. If you'd like."

"I'd love that." Dean whispers, his eyes flicking up from the photos for half a second. He flips through the photos, very slowly, gingerly, like he was with the journal. He spends a lot of time studying each image, occasionally biting his lip and smiling at certain ones.

Though they're sitting so close, so snug and warm, Castiel feels like Dean is getting more and more distant. Was it a bad idea to tell Dean about how he's been hunting? Whether it was or not, Castiel was not going to keep that from him. But Dean doesn't seem exactly upset or angry, more like...shy.

That's a trait Castiel would never in a million years use to describe Dean. He places a hand over Dean's, pausing him before he turns the next page. "Dean?"

"Hm?"

"Is something the matter? Are you upset with me about the hunting thing?"

"No, I mean, not really. I mean, I can't say I like you putting yourself in danger like that, but seeing as you're okay I guess you can handle it." Dean shrugs, then moves his hand from under Castiel's to continue turning the pages.

"Dean, what is it? You're acting strange."

He stills, then looks up. He squints at Castiel, stern green eyes looking at him like they're trying to figure him out. "I just...God, Cas, you're so different. I guess I just wasn't prepared for it."

"Oh..." Castiel feels his heart sink. He'd hoped Dean would be pleased with all of this. More excited. Did Castiel fail?

"Hey, Cas, don't feel bad, it's a good thing. Hell, it's fuckin’ awesome. You're awesome. Even more awesome than I expected you to be. I don't know, I'm just a little...intimidated."

Castiel balks at that. "You're intimidated by _me?_ "

"Well, yeah." Dean insists, a playful smile growing on his face. "I mean, shit, you're this successful genius world traveling bad ass, who's, not to mention, the sexiest thing I've ever seen and I just...I dunno, man. I guess I'm a little nervous around you."

Castiel's eyes go wide and his jaw practically drops to the floor. Then after Dean's words sink in, he busts out laughing.

"Hey! What the hell!" Dean starts to laugh too, shoving Castiel's shoulder with his. "It's not funny! I'm being honest about my insecurities, dammit!"

"I'm sorry, Dean, I'm sorry, I just...cannot believe the irony." Castiel wipes tears from his eyes, "I was constantly intimidated and nervous around you. It's just insane for me to hear that you feel like that around me. I mean, my God, Dean, you're like my walking fantasy. You have no idea."

"Oh really?" Dean coos, back to his old self. "Any of those fantasies in this journal?"

"Maybe," Castiel says, snatching it from him and setting it, along with the photo album on the suitcase.

"Hey, man, I was gonna do some research!"

"There's no need." Castiel growls, lifting Dean up and pinning him to the bed. "I can show you exactly what I've always wanted to do to you."

Dean gapes up at him with a surprised, excited expression. " _Please_ fucking do."

Truly, this is the moment that Castiel has been craving for ten years. The moment he gets to have Dean again. Over the years he dreamt of it, of course, thought of a million different scenarios. Sometimes, it almost hurt him physically to think of it. To think of what he wanted so badly but wouldn't have for so long. However, knowing in his heart that he would get it, soothed the pain and replaced it with excitement.

Those dreams were nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to the real thing.

Castiel's heart beats wildly, his blood flows hot and furious in his veins. He can already feel it vibrating in his groin, sending his mind whirling. He looks down at Dean, who's broad chest is heaving, full lips parted, quick breaths puffing out of them. He looks down at Dean darkly as he lay atop him and slide his palms down his body.

He takes his time touching him, feeling Dean again. He runs his fingers through his honey colored hair, across his face, slides his hands down his arms. He scoots down to kneel between Dean's legs so he can see and touch more of Dean's body. Just feeling how warm, solid and real it is sends bolts of heat from the tips of his fingers all the way through him.

Timidly, Dean lifts a hand up to reach for Castiel's tie. He hooks his finger in the loop and pulls Castiel forward, slamming their mouths together. Castiel is more than agreeable, lips moving instantly in a heated kiss. He feels Dean loosening the tie, another thing Castiel agrees with thoroughly, and Castiel joins him by taking off his suit jacket.

Once the jacket and tie are tossed to the side, Dean sits up and starts rapidly unbuttoning Castiel's white shirt. Castiel's watches Dean's fingers move, adoring the way they're trembling. As soon as Dean starts sliding the shirt of Castiel's shoulders, they kiss again, falling back onto the bed.

Dean's fingers rake into the skin of Castiel's back. They paw and clutch at him, everywhere they can reach. Castiel arches into the touch, loving how Dean wants to feel him just as much as Castiel wants him too. Just as much as Castiel wants to touch Dean. With that thought, Castiel pushes his hands under Dean's t-shirt, feeling the warm smooth skin and needing desperately to see it. They both lift the t-shirt up and over his head, and it gets tossed almost violently across the room. They both chuckle breathlessly at their enthusiasm, then their expressions go blank as they look at their newly revealed skin.

Castiel's mouth goes completely dry. He sits up to straddle Dean's hips, his eyes mapping the expanse of Dean's torso. Immediately, his hands fall flat to Dean's body, absorbing the heat, sending it buzzing through Castiel's veins. For a moment, he stares down at Dean in awe, absolutely dumbstruck by how beautiful he is. It strikes him again how this is real, how it's really happening. And it's only proved further by how much more incredible Dean looks now than in his fuzzy memories and dreams.

When his eyes find Dean's, he sees that Dean is looking at him much the same way. His eyes are hungrily tracing Castiel's form, his hands are sliding up and down his arms, his sides and his chest. Castiel's heart swells at the sight and feel of it. This isn't just overwhelmingly real for him, it is for Dean as well.

Suddenly, Castiel needs more.

His shaking hands move to start undoing his pants, and Dean's mimic him. They both awkwardly shift around each other to get their pants and underwear off as quickly as humanly possible. Within seconds, the rest of their clothes are tossed aside and they're finally naked. They reposition themselves again so Castiel is straddling Dean like before, and he takes another shocked minute just to stare.

Dean's hands are gripping Castiel's thighs, "Cas,” he breathes, and that's all it takes for Castiel to start moving again.

He dives forward, kissing Dean deeply until they're both good and breathless. Then his kisses travel down his cheek, his jaw, his neck. His hands curl around Dean's sides as his lips travel further down, all across his chest, abdomen, and his hips. In his fantasies, Castiel worshipped Dean's beautiful body like this, but not quite so frantically. Though, in his fantasies, Dean wasn't real.

"Dean," He growls, and it ends in almost a whine. He slides his lips and tongue across his body, licking his nipples, nibbling his skin. Dean writhes and groans beneath him, letting out shocked hisses with each enclosure of teeth. He grips at Dean's body possessively, but it's more like securely, more like to keep him right there under Castiel forever.

Scooting down between Dean's legs, he moves his grip to Dean's thighs, then bends his knees. Dean spreads out for him more than willingly, Castiel's eyes following up the crease of his ass all the way to the tip of his hardness. It's erotic and glorious and Castiel feels his heart punch his chest and his cock twitch so violently he almost collapses. Unable to wait for another second, he dives back in, taking Dean's length fully in his mouth.

"Oh, fuck," Dean hisses, hips bucking up automatically. Castiel hums, pleased with Dean's reaction, and beyond pleased with finally having the chance to taste him. Dean's cock is perfect in his mouth, hot and heavy, stretching Castiel's lips around its girth. He hums again, deep and rumbling, as he pulls up and releases it, letting it flop back onto Dean's stomach.   He trails wet kisses down the length of it, licks his balls, then sucks deep kisses on his inner thighs. All the while Dean is trembling and squirming, cursing as his hands clutch at the blanket under him.

Castiel smiles into each wet kiss he places Dean's inner thighs, hips and his cock. The excitement is still there, the thrill hasn't stopped vibrating inside of him, but he's feeling more and more centered, more grounded. The realness of the situation settles Castiel a little bit, makes him feel more confident and happy than anything else. He sucks Dean's length in again, all the way down, then starts pumping him in and out. He lets his tongue sweep broadly up and down the underside a few times, but before Dean gets too used to it, he starts to twirl it around the base, then licks at the slit.

"God damn, Cas." Dean pants, unable to keep still under Castiel's ministrations. "I take it someone got a little practice in while I was out."

At that, Castiel pulls off. A chill prickles his heart and he flushes, embarrassed and a little worried. Dean props himself up on his elbows and quirks a brow. Castiel finds Dean's expression more puzzled than upset, but Castiel is still apprehensive when he says, "Yes, I...I hope that's alright."

"Wha? Yeah, Cas, yeah of course that's alright." Dean smiles lop-sided, running a hand up and down Castiel's arm soothingly. "I said you didn't have to wait for me, remember? I didn't want you to go back to being lonely."

Dean's voice falls to a whisper, and he's so sincere, just like always. Castiel's chest warms up again, and he smiles, taking Dean's hand and rubbing his knuckles with his thumb. "Still I, I want you to know they were just...experiences. Nothing more."

"Yeah, yeah, 'course. Now c'mere and kiss me before we kill the mood completely." He tugs at Castiel's arm to make him fall forward. They start to kiss immediately, deeply like before. Dean's arms are wrapped around Castiel's shoulders, and Castiel has his arms bent and snug up against Dean's sides. The contact of their erections sends waves of heat through him, like it had the first time they were together, but better.

It makes Castiel think about that first time. It was so special, so perfect. Dean was so caring and patient, didn't make Castiel feel awkward about his inexperience. He has not had a lover since like Dean, not that he sought one, or expected one. He knows, has always known there is no one else like Dean.

He starts to feel a bit bad again about being with other people. He hopes Dean doesn't feel betrayed, or like being with him is less important or less special. That couldn't be further from the truth. Those others, they never made Castiel stop feeling what he feels for Dean. Really, he barely felt anything with them, nothing that wasn't momentary. Nothing that has lasted so strongly for ten whole years.

Reluctantly, he pulls away, "Dean, are you sure it's okay?"

"Is what okay?" Dean pants, "Cas anything you wanna do is okay,"

"No, no, I mean..." Castiel leans his forehead down against Dean's realizing how breathless he is himself, "Are you sure it's okay that I was with other people? It was nothing anywhere near what it's like with you."

"Dude, Cas, it's fine. Seriously. I wouldn't ask anyone to hold out for ten years, Jesus. Seriously, Cas, I'm just glad you're here now, and I want you, and you-", Dean's eyes dart to the side and an amused smile grows on his face. "Holy shit, I just realized something."

"What?"

"I've been with you more times that you've been with me." Dean's expression goes completely smug.

Castiel knits his brows in confusion for a second before he understands what Dean means, at which point he has to desperately fight back a smile to try and look annoyed. "Dean!" He shoves at his shoulder, "That is completely unfair."

"Ain't it? So I guess we're even then, right?"

Shaking his head, Castiel laughs, brushing their lips together before reconnecting them fully. They both smile into the kiss for a moment before they open up and things get heated again, quickly. They start to rut together, Dean's legs hooked around Castiel's, his fingers digging into Castiel's hair. He's missed that feeling so much, of having Dean wrapped around him and clinging to him desperately. Castiel clings right back, presses into him hard. They're lined up perfectly, each rock of their hips sliding their cocks together.

Before Castiel loses all sense of everything, he pulls away to speak. "Dean,"

Without another word, Dean hikes up legs. "Yeah, angel."

Castiel's entire body shudders at the words, at Dean's eagerness. He lets out a deep breath, tries to center himself quickly before crawling back. He twists around to dig into his suitcase to find the lube. When he pulls it out and sits back up right, bottle in his hand like a trophy, Dean wiggles his eyebrows and growls. Castiel is instantly brought back to their first time and he flushes. Dean chuckles, then lifts his legs a bit higher and spreads them.

"Oh, God," Castiel practically moans the words, flushing further in embarrassment as they leave him. He looks up to see Dean blushing a bit himself, biting his lip and smirking. Castiel surges forward, claiming Dean's mouth, kissing him while his hands work to get his fingers slicked up. Once they feel wet enough, he closes the bottle and sets it aside. He's still kissing Dean when he moves his hand down, lower and lower, lifting his hips up to give himself room to trace around Dean's entrance.

Dean gasps, pulling away just for a second in surprise before coming back in to continue their kiss. Dean hikes his left leg up even higher, giving Castiel's arm more room to work with. Castiel pushes the first finger in, a moan escaping them both instantly. Feeling Dean's tight heat again after so long is overwhelming, just as everything else has been. With every push, twist, and pull he flashes back to their first time.

A rush of emotion flows through Castiel like fire, pushing Dean's name out of him in whimpers between kisses. Dean responds by clutching onto Castiel tighter, pushing hard at the small of his back, pressing harder into their kiss. Before long, Castiel has another finger in. He's thrusting it in and out, twisting and curling and spreading. Dean is moaning and sighing, rocking up and down with the rhythm of Castiel's movements.

Once Castiel finds Dean's prostate, he massages it over and over, watching in awe at Dean's changing expressions. He's grasping hard at Castiel's shoulders now, breaths coming out in harsh puffs. When Castiel slips in a third finger, Dean lets out a long moan that emerges from deep within his chest.

"Oh, Dean you are so,” Castiel whispers, unable to find anything close to the right adjective to describe the man beneath him.

"Cas, Cas please,” Dean begs, shaking and writhing, eyes screwed shut. Castiel pulls his fingers out slowly, giving one last hard press to Dean's spot, making him arch and shout.

Quickly, Castiel props himself up on his elbows and looks down between them. He grabs for his cock and slicks it up, then repositions to line himself up with Dean's entrance. Eyes half open, Dean breathes in shakily as he hooks his legs around Castiel's waist perfectly. Castiel meets his eyes, lowering down for a soft kiss as he pushes inside, slowly, until he's in all the way.

If Castiel found everything before overwhelming, it was nothing compared to this.

That dizzy heat is swarming him, threatening to take him over. He's being swept up in that storm of Dean, never to be released again, and he hasn't even begun to move yet. He takes a few deep breaths, marvels at the feel of it, of how it's infinitely better than he remembers it, then he starts to move.

After only a few slow thrusts, he picks up speed. He starts going at it a little harder. He watches Dean's face intently, makes sure Dean likes it, and he most definitely does. He's got a look of complete bliss on his face, a small smile on his parted lips, his eyes are shut tight, and his head keeps throwing back. He keeps moaning and breathing "Yes, yeah, yeah, Cas. Cas, baby," and it's all Castiel has ever needed to hear, ever needed to see.

He knows that if Dean were looking, he'd see a very similar expression on Castiel's face, albeit with eyes open as much as possible.

They're rocking up and down on the bed now, a steady, quick rhythm. Castiel has an arm above Dean's head, the other snug next to him so he can grip at his shoulder. Dean's hands are gripping at him too, when they aren't clawing his back. With each snap of his hips, Castiel's skin slaps against Dean's loudly right along with the volume of their voices.

Castiel is completely lost in Dean now, lost in that dizzy drunkenness. He can't think beyond sensation, his hips move on their own. Dean looks just as lost, no more words form on his lips, just sounds, the occasional attempt at Castiel's name. Castiel doesn't speak, he doesn't even try. His head is buried in the crook of Dean's neck, every now and then moving back up to watch Dean's face, but it gets more and more difficult to do as the feeling of heat rushing through him intensifies.

It pools lower and lower, buzzes harder, presses insistently. Castiel tries to hold it back, he doesn't want this to end. To distract from it, he changes up his movements, works on getting Dean to come first. He doesn't want that to happen quickly either, but if he's concentrating on that instead of losing himself to what his body wants, then he thinks he can prolong his orgasm. He rolls his hips down and thrusts up harshly, making Dean cry out. He repeats the move, knowing he's getting Dean just right every time.

Dean arches, his fingers and heels dig into him. Castiel keeps each thrust heavy and purposeful. He keeps it up until he hears Dean whimper, feels him seize up.

"Cas, Castiel,” Dean cries, his head thrown back, baring his neck. Castiel does one more deep, hard thrust, bending forward to suck at Dean's neck, and with that Dean is coming between them. He arches and jerks until he's totally spent, then he goes limp. Afterwards, Castiel lazily fucks into him, looking at Dean in awe.

Finally, Dean opens his eyes to look back at him. That's all it takes for Castiel to give in completely.

He thrusts in deep when his orgasm bursts out of him, hips jerking. He feels Dean cup the back of his neck and pull him forward, melding their mouths together in a warm kiss. He finds himself falling on top of Dean when it's over, every sensation and emotion escaping him, his mind winding down to a stop and leaving him exhausted.

The storm has settled, and all that's left is the comfort of having Dean here with him.

He pulls out slowly, immediately letting his body fall slack on Dean when he's done. His eyelids are too heavy to open, he's too drained to move. He feels Dean moving about, pulling the blanket from beneath them and covering them with it. As soon as Dean stops moving and his arms are back around him, he falls asleep with three words echoing in his ear.

"Love you, Cas."

 

Dean's always had a pretty reliable internal alarm clock which is why in the morning, he's the first one to wake. He tries not to stir too much, just shifts slightly and turns his head to look at a soundly sleeping Cas next to him. He's halfway draped over Dean, one leg over both of his and an arm hugging around his chest.

Yesterday was the most insane day of Dean's entire life.

Which is saying a _lot_.

One of Dean's first clear memories is of watching his house burn to the ground, knowing his mother was dying inside. Ever since, Dean's traveled the country with his baby brother and his father saving people, hunting things. Coming face to face with death day in and day out. To most, it would be a living nightmare, but to Dean, it's just his life. Just his crazy ass, ridiculous life.

But Dean can't think of a single thing he's experienced that compares to everything that happened yesterday. The past few weeks have been nuts, but yesterday was one for the record books.

When Dean thinks about being in 2003, which was only a few hours ago, it seems like it's been ages. Like it actually was ten years ago, maybe more. The ghost, that cold, lonely feeling around it. That Cas. Seems so far away.

But he's not far away. Cas is right here. He's grown up, he's amazing. He's right here, with Dean. Dean swallows, feeling a lump in his throat. It's the most insane thing of all that someone like Cas remembers him. For Dean, he's known Cas longer than Cas has known him, but Cas has only known him...not even a week now, and yet, he remembered him. He remembers that promise me made, to see him at the school in ten years. That whole time, Cas had Dean on his mind, at least a little. Enough to fill journal after journal of things he planned to share with Dean. Enough to plan ahead, rearrange things with work so he could be here.

No one's ever done so much for him.

Then there's the whole hunting thing. Dean can't say he's a hundred percent cool with Cas hunting, not that he thinks he has a say in the matter, Cas was pretty steadfast, but still, it worries him. He doesn't like the idea of someone he cares about so much, someone who has the opportunity to stay away from this life, to hurl themselves in it. But, it seems like Cas has got a handle on it. He still has an amazing job, can balance it with hunting, miraculously. Dean didn't see an injury on him either; nothing significant anyway.

And Dean looked. All over. It sends a wave of heat through him, thinking about last night. Cas has always had a great body, but now it's just unbelievable. He's tanned, toned, slim and perfect.

Dean runs a hand up Cas' back, feeling the contours of his muscles and shoulder blades. He trails his fingers across the arm draped over his chest. Even in its relaxed state, Dean can feel the muscle tone of it. Dean thinks Cas is probably just fine hunting.

In fact, thinking about Cas in action during a hunt might be the hottest thing ever. He barely manages to stifle a groan as he imagines Cas swinging a blade to chop a vampire's head off, or spinning a shotgun in his hand before blasting a ghoul in the face. He smirks, hoping to get to see that happen someday. More and more, Dean's kind of liking the idea of Cas being a hunter. He's always believed in Cas, so why should this be any different?

He thinks back to young, 18 year old Cas, and how he was quiet, nervous, a bit stand offish. Cas seemed a bit nervous yesterday, understandable all things considered, but a lot more secure with himself than he was back then. Certainly a lot more secure with himself then the first version of Cas Dean met.

Dean's lip quirks up again at the memory of the messy, scruffy, off-kilter Cas with his twitchy mannerisms and nervous ticks. Dean never had a problem with any of it, in fact, it made the guy pretty intriguing. The only sad part was finding out where that all came from. Dean's happy to have played a role it turning that around, but he does wonder if any of that adorable awkwardness still remains. He wonders if Cas still gesticulates widely when teaching.

Then he wonders if Cas' jacket still rises up past the waistband of his slacks when he's scrawling across the top of the board.

"Mmm," Dean hums, moving his hand down beneath the covers to squeeze that fantastic ass.

Naturally, that wakes Cas up. "Good morning, Dean," He mumbles with a breathy chuckle.

"Mornin', sunshine." He replies with a couple slaps to Cas' butt. "How ya feelin'?"

Cas grumbles, stretching out his limbs across Dean's body, then curling back up next to him. "Like I need coffee. And like we should stay in bed forever."

"Oh yeah? Should I call my dad, tell him to leave without me? Quit hunting, drop outta school, stay in bed with Cas forever…doesn’t sound so bad." Dean turns until they're face to face.

"Sounds wonderful, but probably not the best idea. I wouldn't want your father to think ill of me after all."

Dean groans, rubbing his eyes before returning his arm to Cas' waist. He lets out a deep sigh, staring into Cas' sleepy, blue eyes. "I dunno, maybe I should drop out. School’s just not gonna be the same anymore."

Cas tilts his head, much as he can with a pillow under it. "Hm?"

"Won’t be as fun without you as my classmate. Or as my teacher. _Professor Novak_." Dean purrs.

"Well, don't go charming any of your new teachers." Cas says, smiling sheepishly. "I would hate to have to hurt someone. Especially after they've had their world turned on its head by you."

Dean blushes and shakes his head. "I dunno, watching you kick someone's ass sounds pretty hot. In fact, I kinda can't wait to see the first time you gank something."

"Gank as in...kill? Does that mean you're okay with me hunting?"

"Yeah, yeah, I think I am. Speaking of, how'd burning Jimmy's bones go? Sorry about leaving you to do that."

"It wasn't pleasant, but it was certainly worth it. Actually, seeing that work, the salting and burning, is what made me interested in hunting the paranormal. I felt Jimmy's presence vanish instantly. It was," Cas looks down like he's trying to find the words, but with Dean he doesn't really need to describe it.

"I know." He brushes his fingers down Cas' cheek, then cups it. Though getting rid of ghosts is routine for Dean, he's seen the relief in people after whatever is haunting them leaves. He's felt the cold lift and vanish, felt how the air gets lighter. There is nothing like it.

"Since we're on the topic," Cas begins, bringing Dean back to the present. "I wanted to ask if I could travel with your family while I'm off work and help out. Would that be alright with you?"

Dean feels himself brighten up, feels his heart leap. He hadn't let himself think about what was going to happen after today. Actually, he doesn't know where his dad is planning on traveling to today, or whether they’re leaving for a new job or what. Either way, the idea of Cas tagging along sounds fantastic. Hunting with Cas by his side, Cas getting to know Sammy better, Dean getting to show Cas off to his Dad.

"Hell yeah!"

"Really?" Cas grins wide, dimply and sweet.

"Yeah, Cas, I'm down for that. It's my dad you gotta worry about." Dean jokes, but Cas' face fills with terror, making him laugh. "It's alright, Cas, he might not trust you right away, but I'm sure he'll welcome a helping hand."

Sighing with relief, Cas leans in for a soft kiss. "Thank you."

Begrudgingly, they get out of bed. They take a quick shower together, just like they had a few years ago, or a few days ago, whichever. Dean can't even keep track any more. Especially not when he's naked and wet and has Cas wrapped around him. They scrub each other, laughing and kissing, Dean keeping hold of Cas for as long as possible.

After showering, Dean throws on a robe Cas packed to run down to the Impala to get his duffle bag. It's freezing out, and Dean's still a little wet, not to mention nearly naked, so he makes the trip as quickly as possible. He returns to a far too amused Cas, who gets a robe chucked at his face. Dean then gets dressed while Cas sits on the bed wrapped in the robe and drinks some coffee.

Cas tells Dean to go ahead and leave with his family because he has to return his rental car.  He says he’ll take a cab to meet up with them later, and it’s a good enough idea, but Dean still sorta hates that they’ll have to be apart for any amount of time now.  Dean says he could tag along with Cas to return the car, but Cas insists he stay with his family. Dean figures that gives him a good enough chance as any to explain Cas as best he can to Sam and his dad anyway.

Sam comes to knock on the door when it's time to hit the road. Before leaving, Dean gives Cas a warm, lingering hug and kiss, then starts to head to the door where Sam is waiting.

"Oh, Dean, wait." Dean looks over his shoulder at Cas who's digging through his suitcase. Once he finds whatever he's looking for, a huge smile grows on his face. Whatever it is, he has it in his fist behind his back. Dean quirks a brow at him as he walks up. "Here."

Cas hands him a very familiar pencil, and Dean feels like he just handed him a diamond ring. He bites his lip and grins wide, taking the pencil and tucking it into his jacket pocket. Then, he gives Cas a kiss on the cheek before heading out the door. Cas follows them to the doorway, says goodbye to Sam and watches them leave.

John is out in the parking lot standing by his truck. "Need a smoke, Dean?" He asks, handing his pack of cigarettes to his son.

Dean freezes, staring at it. He purses his lips, takes a moment to consider it, then shrugs. "No thanks, Dad. Don't need 'em anymore."

 

Castiel leans over the balcony railing outside of the room at the motel Dean told him he was staying at ten years ago.  He wasn't staying at it then, he couldn't, but he is now. 

Castiel watches the leather jacketed bad boy as he strides with his baby brother over to his monstrous black car that he sometimes lives out of.   He sees Dean, the bad boy, turn down cigarettes offered to him by his father.  He watches him ruffle his brother's shaggy hair with a fond smile on his face.  He watches as Dean opens the driver's side door, but doesn't get in. 

From where he stands, Dean looks up, and gives Castiel the biggest, brightest smile he's ever seen him wear. 

It makes Castiel flush and smile back.

Dean, the "bad boy", is anything but.  He is so, so much more and Castiel cannot wait to discover every last bit of everything that makes up Dean Winchester. 

And now, he has all the time in the world to do it.


	15. Epilogue – A Journal Entry by Castiel Winchester

The date is April 29th, 2018.  It is the 5 year anniversary of the day I asked Dean to be my boyfriend.  Though, actually, it’s more like the 15 year anniversary, but Dean insists that it shouldn’t work that way.  He says it’s too confusing to explain to people.

However, between us, that’s what we call it. 

On our anniversaries, I like to go back and think about when they started.  I like to reminisce about the day Dean asked me to marry him.  About the day of our wedding.  About our first date.  Our first kiss.  The first time we made love. 

I like to discuss all these things with Dean, though sometimes he gets a little embarrassed.  Uniquely, Dean has an entirely different list of first times.  It’s a list of first times he experienced with a version of me I never knew. 

It’s strange that I sometimes get jealous of this other me, but I quickly brush that aside, as even I can admit that’s ridiculous.  Actually, it’s quite romantic to consider that I’ve had Dean in two different timelines. 

Dean, I think, would scoff at that.  But, he has no idea what a romantic he truly is.

The vase of white lilies on our kitchen table that surprised me this morning would argue my point for me, I think. 

Anyway, to update on current events, I believe Dean’s father is finally starting to take a shine to me.  On a recent hunt, he got caught in a vampire’s nest.  Fortunately, it wasn’t long before Dean, Sam and I found him and freed him. 

On the way home, John commented that he couldn’t believe no one joked about his carelessness in getting caught by a nest of vampires and how that could be considered a novice mistake.  Dean informed him that I warned his boys to not crack any jokes, as the severity of the situation does not warrant humor. 

Ironically, John laughed and patted me on the shoulder. 

I think he does like me.  Sometimes it’s hard to tell.

That job took place in Sacramento, so I rode with the two boys from Stanford to meet up with their father there.  We returned as quickly as possible, considering that finals are coming up for Sam to take and for me to hand out.  It was definitely easy to tell how proud John was of his son. 

That’s never to say he isn’t proud of Dean as well; Dean has so many strengths.  He’s still taking online classes and doing quite well in them.  I believe it’s biologically impossible for me to feel any prouder of Dean.

Following the semester, I’d like to take Dean around the world with me.  I plan to bring it up on our date tonight, but I’m somewhat nervous.  We’ve discussed it many times, but Dean is very apprehensive about leaving his brother and father to hunt while he vacations.  Though it’s much better than it used to be, it is still sometimes very difficult to get Dean to accept things for himself. 

Luckily I have my ways of convincing him.

I realize that I haven't been updating my journal nearly as often as I used to.  My feelings about this are mixed.  On the one hand, I'm disappointed in myself for neglecting my journal, as I want to document every moment I spend with the Winchesters, as a Winchester, and every moment I spend with Dean.  I want every moment of our progressing lives to be documented so I can go back and read all of it; to experience all of it again. 

Alas, I simply don't have the time.  Which is where the upside comes in.  I find myself far too busy with the life I've built, the life Dean and I have built, to devote the time needed to write everything that happens every day in a journal. 

Time is funny that way.  There is never quite enough of it.  That is, until I finally conquer time travel. 

However, even if time travel is forever out of my reach, the time that is available to Dean and I...well, we enjoy every second of it.

Speaking of time available, I must get going so I can start getting ready for our date tonight.  Mustn’t be late for our dinner reservations. 

Before I shove off, I must bring this last page of yet another one of my many journals to an end by concluding it as I have all the others. 

Dean, for when you read this:

Thank you for everything.

I love you,

Castiel Winchester

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
